


The Fruit of Knowledge

by Snape_420



Category: Supernatural
Genre: BDSM, Cruelty, Dark, Death, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Kidnapping, Multi, Multiple Pairings, Nudity, Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sexual Tension, Sexual Violence, Slow Build, Torture, Violence, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-16 07:59:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 24,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13632060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snape_420/pseuds/Snape_420
Summary: This story begins in the first episode of Season Ten.Dean adjusts to literally becoming a demon and Sam is struggling to save him, when suddenly a mysterious new woman enters their life. She throws every view they have of the Supernatural sideways. Her arrival skews Gods into monsters, paints devils as victims, and puts a new spin on their very existence. Will they trust her, while struggling to save each other? Or will her arrival destroy everything they’ve worked for? Strong Canon adherence.





	1. The Golden Shadow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam Winchester struggles to find his brother Dean’s whereabouts when he disappears after they manage to defeat the top demon in Hell. While he is interrogating a Crossroads demon, he finds himself interrupted by a mysterious figure who claims she only wants to help.

**Chapter One: A Golden Shadow**

The guilt wasn’t real. It was a subconscious reverberation he chose to ignore as he slid the edge of his knife along her skin. The vibrancy of red that awakened there was more immediate, as were the sharp cries.

“Tell me!” He insisted.

Her shrieking continued until he relieved the pressure behind his blade. Tears bit along the seam of her eyes but they didn’t seem to make his guilt rumble any louder.

“I told you. I don’t know!”

He pressed the knife to her again, drawing another line of red… quicker this time, but deeper.

“Then you better find someone who does.” His voice didn’t sound like… his voice. It was a memory from a time when he’d lost a piece of himself.

A cup in his hand caught the droplets that poured from the deep gash.

“No one knows! They won’t answer.”

“Make the call!”

“We’re under orders!” Her voice edged along his knife’s slicing movement as he screamed, repeating himself.

“Make the call!”

“Please!” Sobs broke against him, but they found no sympathy. He slammed the cup to the ground and a sanguine stain spread.

Grabbing her face, he crushed it in his hand as he screamed.

“Where’s my brother?!”

[Originally posted by demondetoxmanual](https://tmblr.co/Z2gk_x27mN2SD)

“You won’t find him like this.”

He spun around, keeping the demon in place behind him as he did so. His breath caught at the darkened image, gold shifting in shadow.

“Who’s there?” He growled.

Simultaneously, the creature behind him gasped, “What is that?”

The figure paced forward, and he felt his resolve drop slightly at the sight of her.

“She can’t help you. She is speaking the truth. Dean won’t be found until he is ready.”

He swallowed hard, glancing down at his wounded arm strapped in a sling. Usually being outnumbered wasn’t a big deal but… He narrowed his eyes as he pulled the other demon in front of him as a shield.

“Who are you?” Each word dripped with venom as he watched the woman hold her hands up in a submissive gesture.

“I am not what you think I am.” Her eyes were glinting and what little light there was caught in her hair.

“What are you?” The demon asked again, and he could feel her shaking in his arms.

“She can’t help you. This is pointless. You are only hurting yourself.” The woman’s voice was melodious, almost, with a striking accent; she drew out her ‘S’ sounds in a soothing way.

He shook her spell, growling as he slammed the demon back into the wall and forced his knife through her chest. Her life flickered in a bright sheen as it extinguished.

“I’m going to ask you one more time. Who. Are. You?”

She kept her hands up as her eyes flicked behind him, watching the demon slide slowly down to the ground.

“I am Sophia.”

The melody had shifted, become tremulous.

“What are you?” He kept his blade raised threateningly.

“I-I am like you.” There was not much light to see her by. She was still just a shimmer in the dark, but he definitely didn’t recognize her. He scoffed before he replied.

“You’re a hunter?”

“Well… more of a scholar, really… but I am human.”

“So, you don’t mind if I do some tests?” He didn’t wait for a response, flinging holy water from his flask at her with his injured hand.

She gasped, but wiped the drops away unharmed.

“No… I don’t mind. Do you have silver?”

He didn’t respond as he switched Ruby’s knife for another. A few strides and he was on her, drawing a thin red line along her bared forearm, which she offered willingly. She didn’t flinch. He could see that her eyes were wide, an unsettling gold color.

“How do you know about Dean?” He kept hold of her arm as she began to pull away.

“I know many things, Sam Winchester. But I am here because I too, seek your brother, as he holds the Mark of Cain.”

[Originally posted by van-dyne](https://tmblr.co/ZDj8xv1d-KaJ_)

He couldn’t help his hold tightening even more on her as shock overtook him. She winced slightly, but held his furrowed gaze, straightening her back as she repeated.

“I am Sophia.”

“You say that like it’s supposed to mean something, but I don’t know who you are.”

“I am not from… around here. I can help you though, Sam. I want to help you. I need him to remove the Mark, it’s the only way.”

“Wait… You can remove it? How do you even know about it?”

“I can’t, no. But I know how to remove it. At least, I know what you need… but first… Your brother is in trouble. I fear he is not himself.”

“What the… Who the Hell are you? How do you know any of this?” He was growing annoyed, and angry, forcing her to pace back with his firm hold on her arm.

“I told you, I am Sophia. Look. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I only want to help. You and your brother… you are the key. That is why I know about you.”

“How? How do you know?”

“I am like you, Sam. I have much knowledge. Please! You are hurting me.”

He lessened his grip but didn’t let her go.

“What, are you with the Men of Letters?”

She laughed slightly, motioning down toward her body.

“Obviously not… Mother taught me all that I know, and I know it all through lore. I have much knowledge.”

“Yeah, you said that. Look, you want to help? Get real. Where are you even from?”

“I am from… not here…”

“Yeah, I got that. What, you from the Middle East? I can’t place your accent.”

“Oh,” her other hand reached up to grope at her throat. “That… I mean, yes. I’m from Israel.”

“Alright. Look. Sophia. I don’t know you. I’ve got a lot on my plate here. I’m just trying to find my brother.” He let her go and turned away.

“Let me help you. I want to find him too.”

“I don’t know you.” He rounded on her, his voice ferocious. “And I don’t trust you. Now back off!”

She put her hands up again and took a step back.

“Yes. Fine… I just want to help, Sam… This,” she motioned behind him, toward the fallen demon. “This is not the way to find Dean, and just be careful when you  _do_  find him.” She backed away further as the darkness engulfed her.

“What does that mean? Who the Hell are you?” He strode toward her but his frustrated voice met only the cold air.

[Originally posted by mariamaynot](https://tmblr.co/ZMB7Qy23nwXzo)


	2. Mary the Stripper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia manages to track Dean Winchester down… in a rather seedy establishment. She makes an attempt to help him but he surprises her with some shocking developments.

**Chapter Two: Mary the Stripper**

Finding him had taken much longer than she expected. Her connection to the light was so tenuous here, much thinner and drawn out than she expected. She wasn’t even sure if she’d beat Sam here, but part of her thought it might be better to encounter the brothers together. Sam had shocked her with his aggression, but she had no idea what to expect from Dean. She’d had time to zone in on his location and do a bit of research for a cover position but that was all. Things could go bad, or worse. There was only one way to find out, though. She didn’t falter as she strode down an alleyway that was thin, dirty, and smelled faintly of urine. She was thankful for the sunlight even as she hurried to slip in the backdoor.

A blast of booming music assaulted her but she steered away from it, down a narrow, dark hall she hoped led to changing rooms. She was unfamiliar with establishments like these, but that wasn’t for lack of knowledge, just experience. Her research had been thorough, as it always was, before this task. Employee quarters were always in the back. She was met by a woman at the end of the hall exiting a door with peeling paint.

“Really?” The lady glared as she looked her over. “Four girls on a day shift? It’s dead out there! I saw, like, four guys when I came in.”

Her make-up was heavy and the chemical smell wafting up from her hair choked Sophia. She swallowed thickly and managed a smile as she replied.

“I’m new. I guess this is like a trial.”

The woman was still glaring.

“Whatever. You better hurry and change. You got the next set since Baby and Charlotte already went on. You’re late.”

“Yeah… I’ll hurry. Don’t worry. I am Mary, by the way.” She offered her hand, but the woman just scoffed at her.

“Whatever, I got to go. That’s my cue. I’m Cherry. Love me some Cherry Pie.”

A new song had come on and she heard a man singing about the aforementioned fruit pastry, recognizing it as a classic rock tune. Sophia watched the woman’s barely jean-clad rear end saunter down the hall, then hurried behind the peeling door. She dropped her bag and quickly removed her long coat. Her eyes swept over her own hardly covered form in the mirror. She flounced her curls and pulled a gauzy green scarf from her bag which she draped artfully, then rushed out into the main room.

She saw him instantly. He was one of few customers in the room besides a large bouncer and a small man standing behind the bar with greasy hair. It was easy to recognize him, even though the images she’d seen had been foggy snapshots. Those piercing green eyes paired with his sharp jawline were unmistakable. He was sitting at the head of the catwalk, leering up at Cherry as she danced provocatively.

[Originally posted by jensen-jay](https://tmblr.co/Z2Y-vv2OS0Fi5)

The perverse way he watched the woman gave Sophia pause, but when he reached up to grab her leg it forced her to action. The bouncer gave a clear warning but Dean brushed it off, smirking as he dropped a twenty from a wad of cash he held onto the stage. He made a comment as he did so, which was obviously crude despite being lost in the din of the music. Sophia rushed to cut the bouncer off as he approached.

“It’s more fun getting a private dance if you’re tossing around cash like that.” She purred, bending near his ear and smiling as he turned to her.

His gaze faltered slightly as he looked up at her, solidifying again as it shifted along her body.

“Well if you’re offering, sweetheart.” He flicked his stack of cash toward her and she turned toward the draped booths.

The man from the bar waved the bouncer away as he started toward them.

“Hundred for the privacy and fifty up front for the girl, in addition to whatever you want to throw her way behind the curtain.” His voice was as oily as his hair.

Dean smirked as he counted out five of his bills to hand over, shoving three more into Sophia’s hands.

“Touch within reason. If she says stop, you stop. Holler if you need Todd, Doll.” The man motioned up to the booth, then he drew the curtains closed, shutting them from view.

Sophia directed Dean onto the vinyl-covered seat as another classic rock song switched on. He smiled, pushing the small table further from him to allow more room. She had no experience in this kind of establishment but that didn’t mean she couldn’t move. Sophia had ample experience coming to terms with her sensuality and she thoroughly enjoyed it. His eyes became hooded as he watched her sway to the beat.

“What’s your name?” He asked, signaling her to come closer.

“Mary.”

He smirked again as he reached up to ghost his fingertips along her waist. She deftly twirled, releasing her scarf as she did so that it fluttered into his lap.

“Mary? That was my mother’s name.”

She smiled back at him as she slid down against his seated form. His hands were quick, solid on her hips, pressing her against him.

“I certainly hope I don’t remind you of your mother.” She said, rocking her hips against a hardness that made her throat tighten.

“Hardly,” he murmured in her ear, pulling her even closer against him, so her back was flush with his chest. “Where are you from, Mary?”

“Israel.” She pulled away deftly when his hold shifted, turning to face him again.

His eyes were hooded even more, and he licked his lips as her hands moved to the top of his thighs, then up his stomach, chest, and shoulders as she moved to straddle him. The rigid swell in his lap throbbed as she ground against him, sitting up straight so she could reach behind her back and undo the thin strap that held her bikini-style top on. His hands slid up to remove it deftly as she continued her gyration.

“You are a long way from home.” His hands were just a bit too firm in her curls, bending her head back and her body taut. He let her go as he went on, his gaze hungry on her breasts. “I wouldn’t expect an angel to pick a stripper for a vessel.”

Her breath caught as she felt cold metal along her back. It shifted against her skin, just so, whispering of its sharp edge.

“You think I’m an angel, Dean?” Her voice quaked despite her effort to keep it still.

“How did you find me?”

“I found Sam first, but it was harder to find you. Still, I have my ways. But I am not an angel, Dean. I’m like you and your brother.”

His chuckle vibrated through her body; they were so close.

“You think so, sweetheart? I don’t think you are anything like me, and I’m nothing like my brother. Maybe he didn’t see you as you are, but I’ve got better eyes than him…”

He blinked up at her as his coy smile lingered, and she gasped at the blackness that filled his gaze. The blade against her back pressed closer.

“Now maybe you aren’t an angel, but you ain’t human. I can see you. So, tell me… what are you?”

[Originally posted by queenbeemishapollens](https://tmblr.co/Z2nuvq22KYe_q)

* * *

 

He could feel her trembling in his hold, inching closer to him in an effort to avoid the celestial blade on her back. The way his cock jumped in response… It was undeniable. It fucking turned him on. She really had picked a great vessel. The woman who’d been grinding against him just moments before was definitely the most delectable creature he’d ever laid eyes on, angel or otherwise.

Her brilliant eyes were vibrant with fear as she gazed down at him. They were a shimmering gold, glinting with flecks of deep topaz and green jade. Her full, pouting lips quivered as she spoke.

“I-I am not an angel. Why do you think—”

He quirked his head slightly, sliding his knife’s edge along the skin around her waist and down her thigh.

“Maybe not an angel; I can’t exactly make out your halo, sweetheart. But you’ve got that special angel glow all demons can see.” Her eyes flickered down to follow the sharp metal as it trailed across her belly, continuing upward.

“I’m not… I am human. This is my human form. I swear it. You can kill me with any knife. You don’t need anything-” her breath hitched as the blade swept between her breasts, “special.”

“Oh… your human form, eh? What exactly does that mean? You better start making sense, honey. What are you?”

“I am Sophia.”

He twirled one of her curls in his other hand, applying slight pressure behind the blade as he brought the tresses up to his nose. They were the color of molten bronze, gold and red and copper all melded together.

“I thought your name was Mary.”

“That was the name I chose the last time I took a human form. Mary of Magdala.”

A bark of laughter sounded, and he released her hair.

“Mary the Whore? Well, I guess a stripper is fitting than.”

Her eyes narrowed, and those perfect lips pouted more.

“Mary the Beloved of Jesus. Mary the Thirteenth Disciple. There is much you don’t know.”

“Look, sweetheart, I don’t know what crazy book you’ve been reading but the one I read had twelve disciples and not an inch of trim among them. Sorry.”

“You don’t know what I know.”

“No,” he allowed his eyes to linger on her heaving breasts, a more perfect pair he’d never seen… So full and yet perky, with rose-hued nipples seemingly dipped in cinnamon sugar. “I just don’t care.”

Her brows furrowed as he lowered the knife.

“If you aren’t an angel, I’m guessing you ain’t here to kill me so get on with the dance. I wouldn’t turn my nose up at a happy ending from you, either, sweetheart. I don’t pay for ass though… even when it’s as fine as this one.”

She whimpered a gasp that heated his blood as he gripped her full buttocks.

“I’m not here for that… or to kill you.” She breathed, moving to get up. He hardened his hold instead of easing it, though. “I’m here to help.”

He grinned darkly, sitting up suddenly so that his face was right in front of hers.

“Oh good, I got a room nearby. I could use some help taking care of this little problem you’ve given me,” he murmured, thrusting his hardened cock against her. “Actually, it’s a pretty  _big_ problem… if you know what I mean. What do you say, sweetheart?”

He pushed his lips over hers before she could respond, taking advantage of her surprise. Her lips were as soft as he’d imagined, and she moaned slightly as he caressed her tongue with his own. She tasted like honey and cinnamon with nutmeg; he frowned as she pulled away.

“That is not what I meant,” her voice was breathless. “I want to help you with your… current state. The Mark, Dean. I think I can help you. Please.”

“Current state?” He barked cruel laughter again. “This is the best I’ve ever felt, gorgeous, and I’ve got the Mark to thank for that. If you don’t want to go back to my room, we can finish this right here, right now.” He shifted to curl his thumbs underneath her gold-colored bikini bottoms, starting to pull them down.

“Stop! Look, normally I would be more than willing. You are a good-looking man… but you are not a man right now. Let me go or I’ll scream.”

“Go ahead, honey.” He purred, pulling her even closer.

The bouncer had already heard her raised voice, though, and the curtain flew open. Dean grinned, depositing her gently onto the booth as he ducked the huge man’s first swing. Sophia watched in horror as he landed his own solid blow, taking the bouncer’s next hit like a flea bite. Dean kicked the large man harshly in the chest, bowling him over the tiny table which crumpled to pieces. Then he descended on the man, crushing his face just as easily with repeated punches. He saw now that she realized this had been his intention from the get-go. It was why he’d been so eager to grab at Cherry Pie. He knew the rules and he was looking to break them. The Mark flared in an orgasmic way as his rage broke and by the time he’d finished pummeling the man, the golden woman was gone.

[Originally posted by demondetoxmanual](https://tmblr.co/Z2gk_x2B-bzck)


	3. Dangerous Interrogations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam meets an unknown adversary on the road. Sophia helps him escape, but then finds her way into a dangerous interrogation of her own.

Chapter Three: Dangerous Interrogations-

 

Sophia watched from the thin tree line as Sam got out of the car that had just died on the side of the road. It was easier to find him since he’d touched her and that was lucky because it didn’t take long for a large truck to pull up behind him as he struggled and failed to lift the hood with one hand. She wanted to help him but held back, sure that he would only rebuff her again. A man she didn’t recognize from any of her research exited the truck and moved toward Sam. She couldn’t make out their words, but Sam was at ease as the good Samaritan unlatched the hood and took a glance. It was only a moment later that she realized he was anything but good, however. With a quick and solid punch, he knocked Sam out cold.

Her sharp gasp was lost in the wind as she watched the much shorter man struggle with Sam’s tall form and shove him unceremoniously into the back of his truck. She closed her eyes as his engine revved to life, struggling to hold onto her connection with Sam. When they stopped, she sought to catch up and found herself standing outside of what appeared to be a barn. She approached silently, listening through the slates of wood to an unfamiliar voice.

“Where is he?!”

Sam’s voice was thick and choked with pain as he responded. She realized she’d lost some time en route. The sun was just starting to rise.

“Shove it up your ass.”

“Okay. Okay. Okay, okay. I guess it’s time to crank up the volume, then. Huh?” There was a slight pause. “Right there.”

The sound of a cell phone interrupted, and Sophia closed her eyes again as the man’s voice moved away from the back of the barn.

“Hey darling. No, I’m good. No, everything’s fine. Everything’s just fine.” The sound of a door creaking open and shut gave her the green light and within a heart beat she was next to Sam.

He didn’t notice her at first; he was focused on struggling to reach something with his foot. She saw a set of keys with a pocket knife on it and squatted down to reach for it, gesturing for a shocked Sam to remain quiet. She quickly cut him loose and they crawled through a window before the man finished his phone call. Sam waited until they were well away before turning on her.

“What the Hell… How the Hell… What ARE you?”

“Let’s talk while we flee, yes?” She kept up a quick pace, glancing behind her.

“Fine, but you need to start talking.”

“Alright. Look, I’m not from here. I’m not from Israel, that was just the last place I recovered a human form. I’m… Well, I suppose I am… re-using it. I didn’t have a lot of time to make one from scratch.”

“So, you aren’t human.” Sam’s voice had a tone of satisfaction.

“No, I am… for all intents and purposes. I have all the human needs. I bleed, I can die. But I’ll come back if I do.”

“So, then where are you from? Heaven, Hell… Purgatory?”

“I’m from a plane of existence you are not familiar with.”

“Why are you here?”

“I told you. I am here to help you… and your brother. Mother almost didn’t send me, but she tired of seeing the two of you struggle, I suppose.”

“Who is your mother?”

“She is Sophia.”

“What? I thought you were Sophia, what the—you aren’t really answering my questions.”

"She is the Elder Sophia, the original. I am Sophia in the human form. Even if I am from another plane, as you would say… What you need to understand is that all dimensions are connected. There are many different worlds and sometimes these worlds bleed into one another. The chaos that has arisen in yours has seeped from mine and mother feels responsible. She must enlighten your God.” Sophia struggled through a length of thick bramble, sighing. It was too hard to explain.

Sam had reached over to help her as she stumbled, and he held her, staring, dumbfounded.

“God?”

* * *

A reeling mind was something Sam had become accustomed to long ago. It came with the territory of being a Winchester. Still, he was having a lot of trouble coming to terms with Sophia’s explanation. It seemed as though every sentence she spoke only bred more confusion.

“God?” He repeated the word, realizing he’d stopped moving as the woman breezed by him.

“The lion-faced serpent… He was created in ignorance, the ignorance of Sophia… and from him grew more ignorance, thick with arrogance.”

“You’re saying… You’re telling me that Sophia is looking for God, that she created him? But no one has seen him… Not for centuries!”

“That is part of the reason I am here. I am hoping that I can find him. But first we must get that Mark off your brother.”

They had made the road. The sky was lightening more, with a gray sheen that crept along the edge of the forest.

“You really think you can?” He wanted to stop asking questions but there were too many and it seemed the only way to steady the swimming waters in his brain.

“I know what we need, and I am hopeful I can find it.”

“Okay, just one more question… How did you find me? It was like one minute I was alone and the next, you were there.”

“I have some… abilities. I have a unique appeal, a kind of charisma or attraction, that is not replicated among humans. I can intake information incredibly fast and I can traverse space and time in a kind of telepathic manner.”

“What, like teleporting?”

“Yes.”

Sam stopped in the middle of the road, staring at her incredulously.

“So, let’s go! Shoot us over to Dean. What are you waiting for?”

“It only works for me. I can’t do it if I’m touching another being. I’m sorry.”

Sam scoffed and started back down the road.

“Can you find him?” He asked.

“Yes, and it won’t take as long as it normally would. After I’ve touched someone physically, I keep a connection with them.”

“Then go, find him and keep an eye on him. Contact me when you do.”

She nodded and stopped short; when he turned around the street was empty.

* * *

It was more difficult to find Dean than she had anticipated, even though he had touched her much more than his brother had. She assumed it was because he wasn’t human anymore. She wasn’t sure exactly how much time had gone by as she moved slowly through the back hall of a dingy bar, listening to voices that rose in the front room.

“Really? Because I think you don’t know what you want. Tell me, Dean—What are you? A demon? If so, why isn’t Lester’s wife dead? Did you feel sorry for her? So maybe you’re human. Except you have those pretty black peepers and you’re working alongside me. Why don’t you do us all a great big favor and PICK A BLOODY SIDE?!” She didn’t recognize this voice. It had a thick accent.

“Or what? Hmmm? Go ahead. Make a move. See how it ends. I ain’t your friggin’ bestie and I ain’t takin’ orders from you. When I need to kill, I’ll call. Until then, stay out of my way.” Dean’s voice was angry and amused at the same time.

“Fine. It’s over. What can I say? Crazy ones—well, they’re good for a fling, but they’re not relationship material.” The first man scoffed.

“Are you done?” Dean asked.

“We’re done. You know what Dean? It’s not me. It’s you.”

Sophia waited for a reply, but she didn’t hear one. She took a step, hoping to intercept Dean but felt a hand cover her mouth from behind, muffling her cries as a blade jabbed into her back.

“Well, well, well… aren’t you a lovely thing?”

 

She supposed she had blacked out. All she could remember was a swirling darkness, reminiscent of her current goal. Opening her eyes, she saw that she was on a hard, concrete floor and she could hear voices murmuring around her. She couldn’t feel any immediate injuries but groaned as she struggled onto her hands and knees. She felt nauseated.

“There she is… Are you with us, darling?”

She looked up at the sound of the now familiar accented voice to see a somewhat short man with a trimmed but rugged beard and moustache. He had a round face and his dark eyes matched the hue of his hair, clipped above his forehead. He was smiling at her, but that smile was full of mocking and devoid of any mirth. He was sitting in what appeared to be a throne.

“Where…?” She gazed around to see several people gathered. They were all dressed similar to the man, in neat pantsuits and ties.

“Who… are you?”

“Well, I was just about to ask you the same question, darling. In fact, I was going to take it a step further and ask what you are.”

Sophia wished she could dim whatever brightness it was demons could see hovering about her. She had not had this problem the last time she’d been human. Perhaps it was because she had re-constituted her form. Or perhaps it was simply because she hadn’t run across demons as often in that time. Snapping fingers made her realize she’d taken too long to answer. She swallowed hard and replied.

“I’m Sophia… just Sophia.”

The man in the throne smirked at her.

“Well, just Sophia. I would like to introduce myself, in the hope that perhaps you will understand how foolish it is to lie to me. I am Crowley, the King of Hell.”

She swallowed again, glancing around at what she now realized were entirely too many demons.

“Now. I’ll ask you again… What are you?”

“I’m just a woman.”

“Tsk-tsk… you must know I can see that isn’t the truth. The odd thing is that I can’t quite place your… unique aura. At first, I thought you were sporting some broken wings and a halo. But upon closer inspection, I realize that I’ve never seen anything quite like you. The fact that you were eavesdropping on a rather personal conversation between my little minions and I proves that you are someone to be wary of. Now. I’m going to ask you one last time. What. Are. You?”

She shook her head, looking down at the ground.

“I am Sophia.”

A disappointed sigh sounded above her.

“Take her to a cell and don’t let her out of your sight. I’ll be on in a moment. I’ve just got a call to make.”

She felt firm hands grip her and drag her back out of the room as she protested to no avail. She was dragged down a dark hallway, lit only with candles, and shoved roughly into a tiny room behind a heavy metal door. She stumbled but caught herself against the wall, glancing back to see that one of the “minions” had followed her in. He closed the door and grabbed her arm, yanking her around.

“You really are a pretty thing, aren’t you?”

She cringed as the dark man forced her back against the wall.

“Please let me go. I’ve done nothing.”

“Not my call, gorgeous,” his cruel eyes slid down her body as he moved even closer to her.

She struggled, and he jerked her against the hard concrete surface.

“Play nice and this will go much easier for you.” His mouth bent over her, slipping along her neck where he breathed deeply. He was pinning her with his body as she squirmed.

“No! Let me go!”

Just as suddenly, his weight was gone and her hands were free. She looked up to see him sparking in front of her like a broken light bulb. A second later he was a crumpled heap on the ground.

“Sorry about that, darling. Demons have so little in the way of morals and you drop in here like a bit of forbidden fruit.”

It was the man who called himself King… King of Hell. Part of her wondered if she was in Hell.

“Please, sir… Please just let me go.” She was crying and tried desperately to control herself.

“Sorry, love, but not until I get some answers. How about we start small. What were you doing in that bar?”

She couldn’t tell him anything. She breathed deep, hoping he would just kill her outright.

“I was looking for… a drink.”

“Coming in the backdoor?” He shook his head and moved closer to her. A small gesture of his hand slid the dead demon across the floor from his path, as if by magic. Sophia backed into the wall again. “Bloody Hell, sweetheart… You can do better than that.”

She just shook her head and closed her eyes.

“Now listen. We can do this the easy way. I don’t have a lot of time; I am a busy King. But I will take the time to do it the hard way if I must. I do so enjoy the hard way. So, what’s it going to be?”

Sophia kept her eyes closed and didn’t respond.

“Alright then… Hard way it is.”

She opened her eyes at the sound of his fingers snapping to see and odd chair with leather restraints and carved sigils appear in the center of the small room. Another snap and she gasped as every article of clothing she wore disappeared. She struggled to cover herself as he moved a step closer, gaze sweeping.

“Now… I did say that demons have no morals, yes? And since I am their King, you can understand why I’d love to finish this bugger’s initial idea.” He moved even closer to her and a flick of his fingers forced her hands down and against the wall at her sides. “Mmmm… you are just delicious…” he murmured, trailing the back of his fingers along her stomach. “We can start with something I wouldn’t exactly call torture since you are so lovely. I’d hate to slice into that pretty, deep caramel skin. But you will answer my questions before I’m through with you. Do you understand?” Now he was moving his hand upward, turning it over to gently cup her breast.

“Please just stop,” she whimpered against his lips which were ghosting over hers.

“Unfortunately, I’m going to have to for now. I’ve got a very important meeting that can’t be missed. But rest assured, love, I’ll be back to finish this shortly.” He placed a light kiss, then snapped his fingers again. Sophia had no control as she was jerked into the chair and strapped down beneath the odd sigils.

“Sit tight!” Crowley gave one last mocking grin before leaving the room.

Finally, Sophia was able to feel some relief. She closed her eyes, concentrating hard as she simultaneously tried to relax. She didn’t think she was in Hell as she could still feel the turmoil of humanity. Still, demonic chaos was sharp and insistent all around. She couldn’t find Sam, but she could center on Dean and in an instant, she felt her body free of constraints as it swam through the currents of space and time.


	4. Demonic Relapse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam struggles to cure his brother of his demonic condition using doses of sanctified human blood. Sophia manages to escape the cruel interrogations of the King of Hell, but soon realizes that she has merely jumped from one fire, into another.

Chapter Four: Demonic Relapse-

Dean watched with a seething rage as his brother stood just outside the windshield near the hood of the car with Crowley. He was going to kill them… both of them. And he was going to enjoy it. Wrath crawled, tumultuous and sharp along the lines of the Mark as he watched the First Blade pass from one to the other. He was going to kill them… That was his Blade, by right! It belonged to him and his hand was itching to grip the smooth bone handle, to hack into both of their pulsing necks and spill their blood in torrents.

A sudden whirl of movement interrupted his raging thoughts, distributing a golden dream into the seat beside him. The corner of his mouth twitched up as he looked over at the buck-naked woman, watching her gasp for breath. She glanced over at him, then out the windshield, and quickly ducked down behind the front seat, cowering on the floor. It was Mary the Stripper, or Sophia the Angel… Whatever she was called, he couldn’t help licking his lips in anticipation as he took in her naked glory.

“Well, hello sweetheart. I respect a girl who gets right to the point.” He waggled his eyebrows at her.

“Is he still there?” She whispered, making a small effort to cover herself.

“Sammy? Yeah, coming back toward the car actually. Still, while you’re down there… Feel free to finish what you started last time we saw each other…” He lifted his cuffed hands, thrusting his hips out suggestively.

The front door opened and Sam got in, starting the car.

“Could you give us a minute, Sam? Unexpected visitor…”

Sam gazed back at him, confused, and the woman peered out of the windshield carefully.

“Crowley’s gone?” She asked.

Sam nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Sophia! Where… Are you okay?” He took in her appearance and cursed under his breath.

Dean watched his brother get out of the car and strip his coat off, then open the back door. He averted his eyes as he helped her into it, and then into the front seat. Damn, chivalrous bastard…

“What happened?” Sam asked, once he’d started out of the parking lot.

“Crowley caught me… These demons can see me differently than you. It’s some… aura, or something.”

“Yeah, this chick glows like she’s nuclear or some shit.” Dean murmured.

“What did you tell him?” Sam asked, ignoring him.

“Nothing. My name… but he was going to torture me. Thankfully he left me alone and I got out.” Sophia said.

“So, what? This is your new girl, Sammy? I’m actually impressed.” Dean said.

“I could have used you. I had to do an exchange with Crowley to find him.”

“That wasn’t my intention. I am sorry.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Sam sounded pissy and Dean wasn’t enjoying being ignored.

He listened to them argue for a few more minutes, then made his move. He swung his cuffs over the woman’s head, encircling her neck with the chains and jerking back roughly. She fought against him, clawing at his arms as Sam nearly lost control of the car.

“Dean! Let her go!”

“Sorry, Sammy, but you’re gonna have to get these cuffs off… unless you want me to choke the life out of your pretty new girlfriend.” Dean growled.

Sophia jerked, shifting up and over the seat and wrenching her body into the back. She managed to find some room for air and words.

“Don’t Sam!”

Dean closed her airway again as he pulled her tight against him. She thrashed desperately but he held her tight. The car jerked to a stop; he felt a sudden burning on his face, and Sophia pulled away. His little shit brother had given him a face full of Holy Water. He lunged again but Sam gave another splash, then opened the backdoor and yanked Sophia out. The door slammed in his growling face. He tried his best to rid himself of the burning liquid as he watched Sam check the woman over. Within thirty seconds she had disappeared from view and Sam got back into the driver’s seat.

“Damn it, Dean. What were you going to do? Kill her?”

The car started again and the two of them started away alone.

“If I have to. I’m getting out of these, Sammy,” he held up his cuffs violently, “and when I do, I’m going to kill you.”

His brother’s worried eyes swept over him in the rear-view mirror and he shook his head.

* * *

After getting Dean settled in the bunker dungeon, Sam left to acquire some blood, then hurried over to a priest who was willing to bless it for a desperate doctor. He pulled his white lab coat off as he exited the hospice and Sophia suddenly appeared, scaring the daylights out of him per usual.

“God! Could we come up with a warning system or something?” He caught his breath as he looked her over. She’d managed to find clothes, at least.

“You have what you need?” She asked, falling in step beside him.

He nodded, lifting the cooler in his hand.

“I just hope this works.”

They approached the car and he put the blood in the backseat as Sophia got in the front.

“It should work; sanctified human blood is the only known cure for a demon. Still, it will not be easy.” She said as he got in and started the car.

“Yeah… nothing ever is.”

When they got back to the bunker, Sam led her inside and directed her toward a large library. Her eyes lit up as she gazed around the shelves.

“The kitchen is through there; if you’re tired you’ll find a spare bedroom down that hall, fourth door on the left. I’m going to get started, but this process will take several hours.”

She nodded absently as she brushed her fingers over the books.

“Is it alright if I read these? You have volumes I have never seen before.”

“Yes, fine.” Sam was glad they kept the rarer material tucked away. He still didn’t trust this woman.

He left her to read as he headed down to his brother.

* * *

 

Hours had trickled by slowly for Sophia, even with the plethora of reading at her fingertips. The sounds of Dean growling and screaming echoed through the bunker, a constant refrain. Sam made his way back to her once, looking scared and hurt. He was convinced he was killing his brother and although she assured him that he wouldn’t, he didn’t appear to believe her and left shortly to make a phone call.

 

With a sigh, she slammed the book she’d been flipping through closed. Sam had been gone for some time and she hadn’t heard Dean’s cries for a while. Pushing away from the table, she stood and returned the tome to the bookshelf. She scanned the rows absently, bracing her hands on her hips as she wondered which volume could possibly contain even a seed of help for her mission. She was reaching forward for one that she doubted would be helpful, still trying to maintain hope. That was when she felt a hand slide over her mouth, blocking her cries as she was pressed up against the bookcase by a solid pressure.

“No wonder you and my little brother are together. You’re both a couple of nerds, eh?” She recognized Dean’s voice, wincing against his fingers as he pushed her harder into the wooden shelves.

He jerked her head back as the pressure of his body increased against her, settling her head onto his shoulder. She couldn’t control a shiver as his lips ghosted along her neck, up toward her ear. He inhaled deeply before he continued.

“Now, as much as I would like to nail you into this bookcase, I’m going to need you to come with me, sweetheart.”

Sophia’s cries muffled against his firm hand as he pulled her roughly around and directed her out of the room. They ended up in what was obviously the kitchen area. Dean held her head firmly against his shoulder while keeping her mouth blocked as he began searching through drawers. She wasn’t even able to see what he was looking for, but soon she felt a blade against her neck.

“Alright, now you’re going to keep that pretty mouth closed until I tell you to open it, right sweetheart?”

Sophia nodded carefully, weary of the blade which was shifted to his other hand as he removed it from her mouth. The cold metal slid lightly against her sensitive skin and she tried not to whimper.

“Now,” the sarcastic tone in Dean’s voice danced with cruelty. “Let’s do this! Come on, Sammy! Don’t you want to hang out with your big brother? Spend a little quality time? ” He shouted, inducing chills along Sophia’s spine as he forced her back into the library then down a hallway, opening doors as he went.

“Alright, come on, Little Brother. I’m tired of playing… Let’s finish this game!”

 

She couldn’t help a slight yelp of surprise as the lights suddenly went out. It wasn’t completely dark, however, because there were red emergency lights set up throughout the bunker. An alarm also began to sound.

“Smart, Sam! Locking the place down. Doors won’t open. I get it. But here’s the thing. I don’t want to leave! Not ‘til I find you!” Dean jerked both of them around as a clatter sounded down the hall. “Sammy! You’re just making this worse for yourself man! Oh, by the way, you can…uh… blame yourself for me getting loose. All that blood you pumped into me to make me human… Well! The less demon I was, the less the cuffs worked. And that Devil’s Trap? Well, I just walked right across it. It smarted, but still.” As he was shouting Dean made his way into the entry room and began fumbling through drawers again.

Sophia held onto his arm, trying to keep the blade from her neck while maintaining her feet. He slammed a drawer shut with a smirk and started down the hall decisively. Soon they were in what seemed to be a control room, lined with metal and blinking lights. He lowered the knife as they went into a grated area, reaching out to flip one of the many switches and muttering, “that’s more like it,” as the lights came back on.

Sophia was just going to attempt to pull away when the door slammed, shutting the two of them in, surprising her into stillness.

“That’s your big move?” Dean growled, swinging her around and shoving her against the door. “You know I got your pretty new girlfriend in here with me, Sammy? Don’t go anywhere. You better open this damn door!”

“Listen to me, Dean! We were getting close, okay? I know you’re still in there somewhere.”

“You better unlock this door or she’s gonna start screaming and I’m gonna like it.” Dean’s savage voice rumbled as he forced her even harder against the door. “You act like I want to be cured, but personally, I like the disease. What do you think, honey?” She felt her bones grinding against the solid wood before he suddenly jerked her back, then slammed her against it again. A scream, her scream, reverberated back to her, echoing off the door.

“Dean, stop! This isn’t you. You can’t do this—” her voice cut off as she felt the sharp edge of the knife slice into her shoulder. The screams sounding now were shrill and desperate. “You don’t know me very well, do you sweetheart? We could have had some fun before, but now that isn’t an option. Go ahead, tell my little brother how bad it hurts.”

“Dean! Stop it! Look, I don’t want to use this blade on you! Let her go!”

“That sucks for you, doesn’t it? ‘Cause you really mean that. Better open this door and find out, though, or I’m gonna carve this pretty bird up like a Thanksgiving turkey.”

Sophia screamed again as she felt the blade once more, this time lower, tearing the skin along her spine. He wasn’t cutting her deep but the pain bit insistent along the serrated edge. She shifted desperately beneath his unforgiving weight and he slammed her hard into the wood once more.

“Quit squirming, gorgeous! I’m already turned on.” His cruel chuckle lit an angry fire in her chest.

She gritted her teeth and fought to control her choking breath.

“Don’t Sam! Do not open this door. You let him kill me.” Another scream cut her off as he yanked her hair back roughly.

“Oh, don’t worry, sweetheart. I got a long way to go ‘til we get to the climax.” He thrust his hips against her roughly, and she felt the truth of his threat hard against her backside.

“Stop, Dean! You aren’t giving me a choice!” Sam sounded desperate.

“Sure I am! And I know which one you’ll make. Isn’t that right, Sammy? No matter what I do to this poor girl. But see… Here’s the thing. I’m lucky. Oh, Hell, I’m blessed. ‘Cause there’s just enough demon left in me that killing you, both of you? Ain’t no choice at all. Hell, I’m enjoying it. Tell ‘im, sweetheart.”

Another scream, pitched and strangled with agony, tore from her as a pain unlike any of the others ripped along her waist. A wildfire of anguish rushed through every fiber as her legs began to tremble uncontrollably. The pressure behind her released along with the immovable hardness of the door, but she could only pool onto the ground. Looking down she could see that the knife was still embedded to the hilt in her side.

She tried to grasp what was happening, vaguely aware of heavy boots stepping over her. There was so much blood, but he’d promised her a long way. That hadn’t been long at all. She gripped the handle of the knife as she watched him lunge at Sam and bait him with cruel words. Their voices were like the rumbles of a distant storm and the madness in his eyes as he allowed his brother to press the demon blade against his throat was like a desperate challenge. 

She tried to focus on breathing, blinking furiously as she slid along the floor, and up against the wall. Then suddenly Sam was there, right above her, and she could barely make out his words.

“I’ll get him… just take care of her, Cas.”

Blinking again, she looked up into kind eyes she didn’t recognize.

“You’re going to be okay.”

She nodded and closed her eyes as gentle hands were placed upon her, removing the knife as a shivering warmth spread like a vibration through every ounce of her blood. Relief flooded her as the pain slowly ebbed back.


	5. Lost Gospels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is human again, but now Sam faces another problem regarding his brother… The Mark of Cain. He finally pushes Sophia about what she really knows of his brother’s condition and tries to determine if she can truly help. He discovers instead that the knowledge she contains changes everything he thought he understood about the Supernatural.

Sam gazed down at the woman who’d come into his life so suddenly and inexplicably. Cas had convinced her to sleep while he’d administered Dean’s last doses of sanctified blood. Now that his brother was human again, and working his way through his third piece of pie, he finally had a moment to question her that wasn’t cramped by stress. He felt a slight creeping sensation as he watched her sleep and wholly intrusive, but Castiel was right. They had more than one problem when it came to his brother.

He almost wanted to let her sleep more; she looked so peaceful… but he steeled himself and reached out to shake her arm. Just as he did, though, she turned over and his hand brushed against her face accidentally. She groaned softly as her eyes fluttered open and slowly focused in on him.

“Sam…” Her brow furrowed as she moved to sit up.

“Sorry,” he jerked his hand back awkwardly. “I just… wanted to talk.”

She nodded as she yawned slightly and moved her back against the wall, crossing her legs.

“Are you feeling okay?”

She nodded again.

“Whatever your friend Castiel did healed me right up.”

“Good. I’m sorry you got mixed up in all that…”

“It is all right, Sam. It was always my intention to get… mixed up.” She said.

“Yeah, about that… I was hoping we could talk about it. I’m still wondering exactly why you’re here… who you are.”

A moment passed as Sophia looked on thoughtfully.

“Have you ever heard of the Gnostic Gospels, Sam?” She asked.

He blinked down at her as his mind blanked, skipped, then settled on a vague wisp of memory.

“The Lost Scrolls of Nag Hammadi…” He breathed.

“ _And when she saw her desire, it changed into the form of the lion-faced serpent. And its eyes were like lightening fires which flash. She cast it away from her, outside that place, that no one of the immortal ones might see it. And she surrounded it with a luminous cloud, and she placed a throne in the middle of the cloud that no one might see it except the holy Spirit who is called the mother of all living. And she called his name, Ildaboath. This is the first archon who took a great power from his mother… And he is impious in his arrogance which is in him. For he said, ‘I am God and there is no other God beside me,’ for he is ignorant of his strength, the place from which he had come.”_

The cadence of her voice had lulled him as his mind struggled to remember what he had read so long ago in the darkened den of Bobby’s house. It was like the wisp of a dream, though, fleeting and unraveling from his mind just as he caught hold of it.

 

“You see, there is a higher realm, higher even than the Heaven you know, the place your angels—your Cas—comes from. It is a place that does not mingle with Earth unless through Sophia’s will… and even then, that first mingling was a mistake. The Supreme Creator dwells in this highest of realms and it is not known to me, for I am but an earthly manifestation of Sophia. Elder Sophia is the mother of all and the highest emanation of her is Sophia-Acamoth, who is the consort of Christ. They all exist in that highest plane, which is called Pleroma and they existed there long before earth and matter were created.

“Long ago, Sophia-Acamoth gazed down into the world of matter when it was just darkness and muddy water. She saw reflected there a light that stirred her desire, so she left her heavenly consort and descended into the world of matter. But she did not belong there and became entangled in the mud and darkness. Just her contact with matter produced a being—the lion-faced god, Ildaboath, the child of chaos. With this production she had begun the stirring of creation, but she could see the folly within it… the arrogance of Ildaboath. So, she also created a barrier between the highest plane and the world of matter, so that Ildaboath could not see anything that existed above or beyond him. He could only see the darkness, which is the embodiment of envy, as well as the matter, and himself.

“Despite Ildaboath’s ignorance, he had managed to capture some of Sophia-Acamoth’s light and he used it facilitate further creation. Even still, when he sought to create man it was a failure. Adam and Eve turned out to be but crude shells. So, Sophia sent more light to raise them up. But jealous Ildaboath, in his arrogance, sought to keep them in ignorance within his garden. He did not want them to question him; he only wanted them to exist in blind worship of his existence. So, Sophia sent Agathodaemon, a divine instructor in the form of a serpent, to direct them to partake of the Fruit of Knowledge. Ildaboath saw this being as the reflection of his own serpent-face and called it Satan.

“Since that moment, since the very moment of his existence, Ildaboath has cursed his creations, from his children the angels on to man. He has punished them and Marked them, most often as a result of his own arrogance and ignorance. Sophia sent Christ in the form of Jesus, but even that could not usurp the pride of your god and the Mark of his curse lingers. I have come to lift that Mark, so that once and for all the reign of Ildaboath’s blindness can end.”

“Wait a second.” Sam put his face in his hands, trying to contain his whirling thoughts. “When you say mark… Do you mean, The Mark?”

Sophia nodded solemnly.

“His curse takes on many forms, but it finds its true origin in the very first Mark, the one he used on the darkness, the one he used to subdue Lucifer… The one that touched Cain, and now bears his name.”

“So, you know how to lift it?” He shook his head slightly, trying to dislodge an entire worldview thrown topsy-turvy by her words and focus in on all that really mattered… The Mark.

“I know what we need. It is a curse. It can be lifted. I need a book, a spell… but I’m not sure what this book is called. I’ve been looking for it since I got here.”

“Alright,” he nodded, peering at her with new eyes, but trying not to focus on the enormity of what she had told him. “So, let’s find it.”

* * *

 

Sophia and Sam spent a handful of hours studying in the library, but they were unable to find the book that would help them. She was a bit distracted, however, as she kept glancing up to catch sight of Dean, who was obviously avoiding her. She couldn’t exactly blame him after their last encounter, and she didn’t truly understand why she didn’t have the same inclination. She had no desire to avoid him, though, and couldn’t shake an irrational attraction that drew her to him instead. Still, he went to bed quickly after she and Sam set up to research.

“I don’t think there is anything here. I went through a lot of this yesterday, anyway.” Sophia said a few hours later, yawning.

Sam slammed his book closed and nodded.

“We’ve got more stuff in the storage area, but we can go through that tomorrow. Let’s take a page out of Dean’s book and tuck in for the night.”

“I can help you put all of this away,” she started stacking books.

“No, just leave it. We’ll take care of it tomorrow.”

Sophia yawned again, stretching in her chair as Sam rubbed his eyes.

“Get some rest. We’ll hit the books again tomorrow.”

She nodded and pushed away from the table, retreating to her room where she fell right into sleep. It proved to be a fitful sleep, however, and she woke with a start, the light behind her eyes glaring. Glancing at the clock she saw it had only been a couple of hours. She tossed and turned for a bit, trying to slip back into sleep but it proved useless. She assumed her Circadian rhythm had been thrown off by the nap she’d had after her ordeal with Dean. Throwing her covers aside she shuffled into the hall and toward the kitchen. She made a beeline for the refrigerator.

“Looking for a midnight snack?”

Sophia gasped in surprise as she turned toward the table. Dean was sitting there with a plate full of crumbs and a beer in front of him.

“Dean,” something about the way he looked at her was wholly unnerving. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Seems we’ve got the same problem,” he murmured as he brought the bottle up to his lips and took a swig.

“Look… Dean, perhaps we should talk.” She moved to sit across from him. “I don’t want you to blame yourself for what happened yesterday. You weren’t yourself and I put myself in harm’s way, knowing what could happen.”

“I know what I am, sweetheart. What I was… but I’m not sure you have any idea just what you’ve gotten yourself into.” He finished his beer and stood, taking his plate to the sink.

“Oh, but I do. I mean to help you, Dean. By any means…” She stood with him, approaching his turned back slowly.

“Yeah, Sammy told me all about your… history. I don’t exactly get it; I don’t read like the two of you. But it just seems like Heaven is even more jacked than I thought. I never trusted God. I never expected much from Him. I just want to know… Why should I trust you? Your ‘mother’?” She watched his broad shoulders flex beneath the thin material of his T-shirt.

“We only mean to balance what was set askew.” She said.

He turned suddenly, and she took a step back. His green eyes were hooded.

“I hear that a lot in my line of work. But I don’t trust you, Sophia. You make this thing worse…” His hand rubbed the raised Mark on his forearm as he stepped toward her. “You aren’t helping, you’re calling out to it. Why is that?”

Her eyes fluttered downward to his arm and he took another step; she moved back against the countertop, struggling to reply as his head bent over her.

Their lips collided, suddenly, like factions in a war. She inhaled sharply through her nostrils as his hands came up on either side of her head, bending it back so his kiss could reach deeper… harder. She gripped his shirt, desperate, as his hands shifted down her body then lifted her up onto the counter-top. He broke for air, biting her lip as he pulled away, and his mouth moved down along the crook of her neck. Sophia moaned softly before his lips were on her mouth again. He pulled her hips closer as he settled his own between her spread legs.

Another moan gasped into his hungry kiss as she felt a solid hardness press against her. His hands were moving up now, twisting in her curls and craning her head back even more. She whimpered in response as his lips peeled away again, opening her eyes to see his hot emerald gaze burning through her. His fingers pulled harder and she felt him start to pull further away, breathing hard.

“This isn’t right…” he gasped between heaving breaths. “You need to go.”

Her brow furrowed in response.

“No, it’s alright, Dean.”

“No!” He cut her off and jerked away from her. She saw he was holding his arm again. “Go, back to bed. I can’t do this.”

Before she could respond he fled from the kitchen.

* * *

 

Sam watched Dean closely as he ate heartily, shoveling his food with a gusto that brought on a wave of reminiscence. Still, despite the fact that he was human again, he could tell that the Mark was fraying the edges of his brother’s existence. His eyes shifted over toward the War Room where Sophia sat at the computer. The blue light of the screen washed her golden complexion out slightly, but it didn’t wash away her beauty. Having her there was not helping his brother. There was some strain between the two of them that neither would share with Sam. He was tempted to ask the woman to leave but she was the only lead he had on ridding Dean of the Mark.

They seemed to be floundering in their search, however. All she knew was that it was a curse that could be removed if they found the right spell. Sam was well aware of just how much lore there was in existence, though, and it was truly like trying to find a needle in a haystack. He sighed deeply as his gaze moved back over to his brother.

“Let’s take a trip.” He said suddenly, vocalizing the thought as soon as it came to him.

“What,” Dean sprayed chip crumbs with his words. “Like a hunt?”

Sam shook his head abruptly. Dean wasn’t ready to hunt yet.

“No, like a vacation. You know… take a bit of ‘we time’.”

Dean scoffed at first but then shrugged as he finished his sandwich.

“Sure, why not?”

“Great, we’ll go to the lake tomorrow.”

“What about Star Trek girl?” Dean jerked his head toward Sophia.

“I’ll send her around the best libraries, see if we have some better luck…”

“Alright then.” Dean finished his food and brushed his hands off casually. “I guess I’ll hit the hay. Enjoy the study fest.” He retreated to his room, giving Sophia a wide berth.

Sam finished his own dinner slowly, then moved to sit across from Sophia. She passed his laptop over without him saying a word.

“I feel like my brain is soaked.” She murmured, rubbing her eyes.

“You’ve been at it for hours. Go get something to eat.” Sam replied.

“No, I’m not hungry. I’ll hit the books.” She moved toward a pile of volumes they’d pulled out of storage.

“Dean and I are going to take a day off tomorrow. I was wondering if you’d be able to try some libraries… You might have better luck.”

“Yes. I could do that. Just tell me where to go.”

Sam let the silence thicken for a time, then suddenly blurted out:

“What is up with the two of you? Did something happen?”

Sophia looked up from her book and her cheeks flushed slightly. She shook her head, then sighed and responded in a quiet voice.

“There is an attraction there that isn’t reciprocated on both sides.”

Sam frowned deeply, wondering if he’d overstepped and if he should continue to do so. It was as he’d suspected. Sophia was undoubtedly attractive and most definitely Dean’s type. Taking a breath, he threw caution to the wind and dove forward.

“You know, what he did… I mean, when he did that, he wasn’t Dean. It would be hard to forgive someone for that, of course, but you need to understand that was the demon inside of him.”

Her soft and sad laughter cut him off.

“I’m not the one holding back, Sam. Dean is avoiding me.”

This gave him pause… That was not what he’d been expecting.

Sophia smiled gently and shut the book she’d been looking at.

“Don’t worry about it, Sam. Perhaps I went after the wrong brother.”

It was his turn to blush as she gave another gentle laugh.

“I have been at this for a time and my head is still swimming. I think I will call it a night.” She stood and walked over to him, bending to place a soft kiss on his cheek, which only deepened his blush. “Just leave that list of places you want me to check out tomorrow. Good-night, Sam.”

He watched her go, his eyes flitting down over her attractive curves as he swallowed hard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Works Cited:
> 
> Leonard, Scott, and McClure, Michael. Myth & Knowing: An Introduction to World Mythology. Pgs. 169-181. McGraw-Hill. 2004.
> 
> Gnostic Christianity and the Myth of Sophia. Bette Stockbauer. http://www.essene.com/Gospels/GnosticAndSophia.html. 10 December 2017.


	6. "We" Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Dean enjoy a rare vacation, but their hunter drive cuts it short. Meanwhile, Sophia adjusts to life in the bunker by herself.

Dean leaned back with a contented sigh as he sipped his beer. It was a gorgeous day; the sun's brilliant rays were beaming off the lake to reflect from the darkened lenses of his sunglasses. It had been a couple of weeks since he'd been wrenched, kicking and growling, back into his human form. A large part of him was itching to be on the hunt again, mainly to crush a few heads, but he had to admit he was enjoying this interlude.

"Hey... Can I ask you something?" Sam asked suddenly.

"Shoot." Dean replied, taking another swig.

"Why have you been avoiding Sophia?"

Dean didn't respond right away, mulling over his answer as he turned his beer bottle against his knee.

"She told me she was...er... interested in you." Sam went on into the silence.

"Yeah, well... I don't know, Sammy. She brings out some, uh, dark spots I'm trying to avoid." Dean said carefully.

Sam's eyebrows shot up.

"What, like the Mark?" 

Dean nodded, then finished his beer.

"Is that... I mean, has it always been like that? I thought it was just killing that brought it out. Not, erm, women..." Sam said.

"Before, I mean, the whole demon thing... It wasn't. I mean, I could go pick up a hotty and have a night. Wham, bam, and gone in the morning no problem. But with this girl... With Sophia, it's different. She's all twisted up with the Mark somehow. She brings it out just like a kill."

"Huh." Sam drank his own beer.

"I still don't really trust her either. So I don't trust her and I don't trust myself with her. So yeah... I avoid her." Dean went on.

"I don't trust her either, don't get me wrong. But she is gorgeous." Sam replied.

"Oh, unbelievably. Hell, if you want to take a shot, have at it." Dean chuckled as he opened a fresh bottle.

Sam laughed in response.

"Really, though. I can ask her to leave the bunker." He said.

"No... I know she's our only shot at getting rid of this thing. It's fine." Dean said.

"So, I gotta ask, bro..." He went on.

"Shoot."

"You've been- kicked, bit, scratched, stabbed, possessed, killed... And you sprain your friggin' elbow?"

"Dude! It was more than a sprain. All right? And it was a friggin' demon, but-"

"What? The sling come with a slice of... crybaby pie on the side?"

They both laughed and sipped their beers.

"So, besides all the, well, you know. How are you doing? Seriously." Sam asked.

"Golden man."

"Come on," Sam pushed.

"Seriously. I'm good. I am. You know, we got three more cases of this stuff on ice in the trunk. Taking some 'we' time... best decision we ever made."

They knocked their beers together.

"I hear that." Sam said.

Dean let the moment build, then finally pushed his luck.

"See that thing in the paper this morning?"

Sam huffed in response before saying,

"Maybe it was an animal kill."

"It was three kills, and it was in the same town, all within the last month."

Sam sighed.

"Yeah, you're right. We should call some guys, have 'em fix it."

Dean nodded.

"Good. Smart."

"Done."

Dean let another moment pass.

"Or... we could be in and out. It's a milk run."

"Right. Because that happens... never."

Dean snatched his glasses off, rubbing his face.

"Look, Sam, what we're doing here... it's good, okay. You and me hanging out. But I need to work. I need this."

Sam took off his own glasses, looking closely at Dean.

"If things go sideways... I mean, like, an inch, you gotta give me the heads up."

"Done. You got my word."

He was already up and folding his chair, grinning as he started toward Baby.

* * *

Sophia was checking out the last library on her list when the phone Sam had given her started buzzing. She turned away from the data base and checked the message that came up.

_"Got a job. Be back in a couple days. Will keep in touch."_

She sighed and tucked the phone away, turning back to finish her search. This field trip had proven fruitless but she was determined to let no stone go unturned. It took her about an hour longer to finish going through the data base. She looked out the window to see droplets forming on the glass. Thankful for her ease of travel, she stepped out into the rain and found a quiet alley to disappear in. She was far from Kansas, in the Washington DC area, but she found herself back at the bunker within minutes. She was familiar with the location so it was much easier, and faster, to travel there now. She arrived in the entryway, so she could avoid locks, then started down into the War Room, as the boys referred the the main space in the library. 

She could see why it had been given such a name. It had a control room with a table that had been painted with a detailed world map that would be perfect for planning intercontinental assaults. Passing through this area she stepped up into the main library, filled to the brim with books and wood and leather. It even had an impressive telescope set up at the far end. She continued on straight into the kitchen and made herself a sandwich. Processed meats and cheese, bread, chips and canned food were pretty much the only food choices, although Sam mentioned he tried to keep fresh fruit and veggies on hand. He'd complained they often went bad, however, as he was the only one who ate them. She sighed as she wished there were some at the moment. She certainly wouldn't let it go to waste.

Sitting at the table by herself, she realized just how big the bunker was as the emptiness pressed in on her. She dawdled over her food before retreating back into the library to pour over more books. Sam had taken his lap top but he'd left her what he called his, "back-up". The internet was like a bottomless pool of information, though. She often found that the more time she spent within it, the more disheartened she would become. This search was proving infinitely more difficult than she had thought, especially since this was supposed to be the easier portion of her mission.

A fruitless night gave way to morning with the bunker still empty and another text from Sam. They had finished up the hunt but Dean had tracked another job in the area so they wouldn't be back for a few days. Sophia sighed as she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Her eyes narrowed in on the sparse contents. Making a decision, she went back into her room, digging through her desk. She didn't have much money, but she'd held onto the cash Dean had given her at the strip club. If they were going to be gone for a while, she might as well stock the kitchen with food she would like.


	7. Domestic Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia tries to make the most of her place in the bunker, where she is often alone, but she finds herself rebuffed by Dean, then discovers solace close by.

Dean beat his thumbs against the steering wheel in tune to the music as the grassy plains rolled by. He was eager to get onto their next job. All he wanted was to scratch the lingering itch that was the Mark, although he couldn't let Sammy know just how bad it was getting. He was glad his brother had plugged that werewolf back there, of course, but he'd been dying to pump the silver into that toothy asshole's gut himself.

He'd been unable to sleep much because of the way the Mark of Cain called to him. It haunted him with memories of past kills, of blood and sweat and breath cut short by his hand. Then there were the other dreams... dreams that shone with gold against smooth, supple curves, dreams haunted by shimmering golden eyes that rolled with ecstasy as he let his rough touch take hold. He couldn't tell which dreams charged the etched lines on his arm more. That was why he'd been working on the Impala so much. At least the sound of Baby's purr brought a smile to his lips.

He knew that this missing drama teacher was a long shot but he really was desperate and it was close by. He could only hope that it turned out to be a case.

He really needed to blow off some steam.

* * *

Sam was tired, but he was happy. Dean was really beginning to act like himself again and he knew it was because they had picked up the last couple of jobs. As weird as it had been seeing their lives played out by mediocre high school actors, it had blown a bit of fresh air into their lives that was much needed. It had even been somewhat difficult to convince his brother to go back to the bunker.

He didn't want to leave Sophia and the search for Dean's cure for too long, though. When the local news alert failed to turn up any leads he'd decided it was time to go home, at least for a couple of days. He texted her to let her know they were on the way, as it had been nearly a week. She always responded with simple one-word responses like, "Okay." It still took them another day to drive back and they were eager to crash.

However, they were greeted by the smell of a cooking meal upon entry. This, of course, gave them pause as it was something they had never experienced before. Dean took a deep sniff, wrinkling his nose before allowing his face to settle into anticipatory happiness.

"What is that?" He breathed as he inhaled again.

"Oh, you're home!" Sophia smiled as she came out of the kitchen.

She wore her usual attire, a flowing knee-length skirt and form-fitting button-up blouse. Her hair was pulled back in a low bun with little tendrils curling all around. Sam had forgotten how attractive she was, being away from her for so long.

"I made dinner. I hope you don't mind." She went on.

He and Dean stared blankly and she laughed softly.

"Come on, now. You're right on time." She motioned for them to follow her into the kitchen.

The scrubbed metal table was set with dishes they had never used. Sam sat first, prompting Dean to do the same with a pointed look. They both watched with mouths slightly agape as she set out a large salad, a huge slab of braised beef, and a fluffy grain side dish, in addition to what appeared to be a fresh-made flatbread. Sophia continued her pleased smile as she began to serve them.

"Do you want a beer, or some wine, maybe... I hope you don't mind I did all of this but you were gone so long I decided to do some shopping."

"No! No, this is- great." Sam's eyes swept over all the food.

"Yeah... Um- I'll take a beer." Dean mumbled.

Sam slowly cut into the slice of beef she'd put on his plate and took a bite. He closed his eyes as he savored the unique taste, groaning in the back of his throat. It was delicious and nearly melted in his mouth with juices that whispered of balsamic vinegar, shallots, and sweet dates. Dean seemed to enjoy it as well, digging in with gusto as she placed his beer in front of him.

"Do you drink wine, Sam? This blend goes great with the braised beef." Sophia said as she poured a glass.

"Oh yeah... Why not?" He said.

It was a smooth but bold red and she was right. The salad and cous cous were delicious as well, although he saw that Dean barely poked at the fresh cucumber, tomato, and olive that was tossed in some kind of oil dressing. His brother laughed as he giggled into the grain dish, however, quoting the film "Pineapple Express":

"The food so nice they named it twice."

They all laughed and lightly discussed the hunts. Sophia found their reiteration of the "Supernatural" play very amusing, telling them she'd read all of Chuck's novels. This made Sam blush slightly. Those books were most definitely a source of embarrassment for both of them. At the end of the meal Sophia served a chocolate pudding topped with chopped nuts and fruit that was a perfect conclusion to the meal. Dean groaned as he finished the bowl and another beer.

"This was awesome. I'm inclined to keep you around, as long as you don't push the cucumber too much." He joked.

"Thank you, Dean."

"I thought it was all delicious. Even the wine, which we never have." Sam said as he finished the dregs in his glass.

"Thank you, Sam. I am not much of a beer drinker."

"Well, more for me, than." Dean scoffed.

"Would you like some coffee?" She asked as she began clearing away the dishes.

"Better not. Been on the road a while and I need to catch some Z's." Dean said, starting to get up.

"Can I help with the dishes?" Sam offered, causing Dean's steps from the kitchen to falter.

"No, no, you two go on to bed. You must be exhausted. I'll see you in the morning."

She saw them each off with a small smile and they retreated. Sam felt an unusual domestic warmth overcome him as he readied for bed and slipped into an easy slumber.

* * *

The next morning Sophia was up early. She made coffee, wishing she had a finjan so she could make a true Kafe Botz. She settled for the drip brew from the machine the boys had, adding some cardamom to her cup so it at least tasted like home. She also made a quick fruit salad, smiling as Sam came into the kitchen.

"You ready to hit the books early?" He said, pouring himself a cup from the carafe.

"You bet," Sophia said, serving him a bowl of breakfast and smiling again. "Is Dean still sleeping?"

"Nope. He's been getting up pretty early lately. He's probably out working on the car. It's his favorite pastime."

Her brow furrowed as she finished her fruit, then she made a decision.

"I'll just bring him a cup of coffee... see if he wants some breakfast." She murmured.

Sam sipped his coffee, his eyebrows rising over the rim as he shrugged.

Sophia poured another cup and carefully climbed the steps out of the bunker. As Sam had said, Dean was busy working on his car, which shone in the early morning sunlight. He wore a tight grey shirt and jeans, his usual attire, and Sophia tried to swallow the arousal that thickened in her throat. He looked up as she approached, frowning slightly.

"I...brought you some coffee," she hesitated slightly at the way his face fell at the sight of her. "I made some fresh fruit salad for breakfast too. I thought maybe you would like some."

Dean threw the rag he held aside and took the coffee with a clipped, "thanks."

"So, uh-" She motioned down at the car's glistening hood. "It looks good."

He rose his eyebrows as he drank, but made no other response.

"Do you want some breakfast?" She pushed.

Dean sighed, putting the mug down on the roof of the car and retrieving his rag.

"Look, Sophia, I get you're trying to be nice. I just need you to understand... What you're pushing, I'm not looking to take up, alright? I just can't do it right now. I appreciate what you're trying to do. It just ain't gonna happen."

Sophia felt her face warm instantly, ducking it away from him as she mumbled a weak reply.

"I was just trying to be nice."

"Yeah," Dean smirked as he moved around his car. "Okay. I'm just not a big fan of fruit salad. I'll go out and get some meat for breakfast, but thanks anyway."

She nodded shortly as she turned quickly away and rushed back into the bunker. She leaned against the closed door, holding her burning face in her hands and feeling foolish as tears bit along the corners of her eyes. They didn't take hold, however, as she forced them back with a shake of her head. Then she went down the stairs and through the War Room to the library where Sam was already set up to do research. He looked up at her and frowned deeply.

"You okay?" He asked.

"What? Oh, no... I'm fine," she waved him off and pulled a stack of books toward her.

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I just... It's odd adjusting to my human form. I can't remember what it was like... you know, with Mother. But human emotions and needs are definitely new, and difficult." She said.

Sam smirked slightly, looking back at his lap top.

"Needs, huh?"

Sophia blushed slightly, then huffed through her embarrassment as she continued.

"Did you know, there are Gnostics? People who actually follow the Gospels of Sophia, found at Nag Hammadi? There are not many, but enough for a solid following. They struggle with needs as well. They go about it in the wrong way, though."

"Oh yeah? How so?" Sam spoke softly, barely looking up from his computer, almost as if he was disinterested.

She laughed lightly, beginning to thumb through the nearest book.

"They actually rebuke most of the gifts Mother sought to give them with the Fruit of Knowledge. They aim for a kind of puritan abstinence that goes against the very grain of humanity. We are meant to enjoy the world, and each other. The knowledge is awake in me and hard to ignore."

Sam smiled softly as he looked up at her.

"Nothing wrong with that." He said.

"You are much nicer than your brother," she said, getting up to retrieve the extra lap top from the other table. She laughed softly as she shook her head. "I just wish the two of you weren't so attractive. It makes it difficult to focus, even if I do enjoy research."

"You told me you've been at it the entire time we were gone... you know you can take a break if you want to, take care of your own needs." Sam said behind her. "Is Dean still out front?"

She turned to look down at him reclined in his chair with one leg up on the table, still staring at his computer screen as though they were just discussing the research.

"He said he was going to get some meat for breakfast," she replied, leaning back as she admired the way his long hair framed his furrowed green eyes.

His brow smoothed as he looked up at her, standing with a sly smile.

"Well then," he took a step closer and her breath hitched slightly as he towered over her. "How about we take a break?"

She smiled as his lips came down over her own, softer than she had imagined. His hurt arm was braced between them, just below her breasts, but the other rose up to cup her face as his mouth opened. She breathed in his kiss, sighing as she felt a much needed release coiling slowly within, ready to pool, loose and relaxed in the center of her being. Her own hands reached up into his hair, pushing it back along his neck as she sought to bring him even closer. But he pulled away, instead, as the curt sound of a throat clearing broke behind him.

She opened her dazed eyes to catch sight of Dean standing in the doorway.

"Well, you two sure are hard at work, eh?" He sneered. "This is why you wanted to hurry back, Sammy?"

"Dean... I-"

"Forget it. Look, I found this in the Impala. It's Bobby's." He held up a cell phone. "It had a message and I think we should check it out. Pack up, we'll head out in a couple of hours, after I get some real food." He turned on his heel and started back up the stairs as he spoke, slamming the door behind him.

"Well, isn't he a ray of sunshine?" Sam laughed awkwardly as he closed his lap top and glanced at her.

"Sorry, Sophia. Life style of hunters." His face was apologetic, even as he shrugged.

"No, don't worry about it. I'll be here. Maybe I'll have better luck while you're gone."


	8. Hope for a Lost Cause

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam begins to feel helpless as he watches the Mark gain a stronger hold over his brother. He forces Dean to confront Sophia, their only hope to remove the curse of Cain.

Dean threw his dufflebag into the trunk, glaring at his brother in the passenger seat as he slammed the hatch closed. He moved around to the driver's side and started up Baby, then pulled away from the bunker.

"So, what did the message say?" Sam asked.

"Something about an inheritance." Dean replied shortly.

"And it's all the way back up in Connecticut?"

"Well, if you didn't need to come play house with some stranger, we'd still be up there." Dean said.

"Play house...? Look, Dean, I came back because I wanted to do more research. You know Sophia is our only lead-"

Dean's angry laugh cut him off.

"Yeah, it really looked like you two were getting a lot of research done. And I tell you what, I don't know shit about Sophia, or what her plans are."

"C'mon, Dean. What're you so pissed about? Because I kissed her? You know she has a thing for you. You're the one who turned _her_ down."

"I just don't like seeing you so comfortable with her." Dean grumbled.

"Oh what... We got to be comfortable to get with women now? You are like the king of one-night stands!"

"Yeah, well, my one-night stands don't stay in the bunker, Sam! And they definitely don't stay there when we're gone! And they sure as HELL can't teleport behind locked doors!" His voice was rising at an alarming rate.

"Look, if you want me to tell her to get a room somewhere-"

"Like it matters! She can just pop back in anytime she wants."

"Well, what do you want, Dean? We tried to get Cas to read her mind but we'll have to wait til he gets his mojo back. Still... she was more than willing to let him try. She didn't know it wasn't going to work. She obviously is what she says with her abilities... I don't trust her implicitly but she hasn't given me reason to doubt her as much as you want me to, and you weren't bringing any of this up until you walked in on us! If it pissed you off so much, I'll back off, alright? I don't want some girl coming between us. We are so far beyond that." Sam said.

Dean scoffed at his brother's dismissive tone, switching his hands on the wheel so that his right arm rose like a barrier between them. 

"Whatever, man." He shook his head as an empty laugh escaped, pushing down on the gas and leaving the conversation in the dust.

* * *

Sam watched his brother closely as the streetlights whizzed by outside the Impala's windows. Regardless of what Dean said, he couldn't shake what he'd overheard during their third encounter with Cole. He still cringed, remembering the first time he'd met the wayward Marine. He had knocked Sam out cold on the side of the road and bundled him off to some shed where he'd proceeded to beat him bloody in an effort to get information on Dean. Sophia had helped him out of that encounter, only for him to meet the man again shortly after. Cole had tracked him to Dean, who had still been a demon at the time. His brother had repayed the Marine with a beat down of his own. This last time Cole had the drop on them though, and he'd caused them to lose the trail of the witch they'd been tracking. Dean had been able to talk Cole down, but the words he'd used had definitely given Sam pause.

_"Once you touch that darkness... It never goes away. Now, the truth is... I'm past saving. I know how my story ends."_

Dean had assured him he'd only been saying what Cole needed to hear, but Sam didn't believe him for a second. The way he'd packed that Shape Shifter full of silver bullets before... His desperation for release, even going on dating apps, which was so unlike Dean. His brother barely knew what Twitter was. It all spoke to the same hard truth: The Mark was taking a tighter hold. He didn't even have to pile on the way his brother had lashed out at him about Sophia, who seemed to be their only hope against the Mark.

He sighed deeply as he turned to look out his own window. They were almost back to the bunker. When they pulled into the drive Sam allowed Dean to exit, then easily slid behind the wheel.

"Whoa. What's up?"

"Look, you need to deal with Sophia. You're being a jerk and I don't know what you're so weird about. I mean, women are your thing, right? Go talk to her or whatever. Work it out." Sam replied.

"Sammy, you don't get it."

"No, I get it. She does something to the Mark. But you know what? So does hunting and you still jump into that, no problem. So why are you so scared? You don't trust her? Okay. I get it. But she's all we got to get rid of that thing and you obviously have some issues or you wouldn't have freaked out seeing me with her. So just, get in there and work it out." Sam pulled the door closed after snatching the keys, without giving his brother a chance to respond.

"I'm going on a beer run. I'll be back at some point."

Dean watched him go, glaring as he pulled away.

* * *

Sophia jumped at the sound of the bunker door slamming. She looked up to watch Dean's booted feet stomp down the spiral staircase. He glared down at her with such anger, she felt her fingers go numb against the stack of books she had been putting away. She tightened her hold as she turned back to the shelves but then heard him stop behind her. A solid thump told her he'd dropped his dufflebag. She could sense him lingering.

"What is it you want?" His voice was low and dangerous. She closed her eyes against the reverberation.

She took too long to answer and heard him take a couple of steps toward her.

"Tell me. What do you want?"

She turned to him, gasping as she realized how close he was.

"I told you," she whispered. "I want to help."

"By driving a wedge between me and my brother?"

"I wouldn't." Sophia swallowed a lump in her throat as Dean's eyes bore into her. Her words fumbled awkwardly. "I did not mean..."

"Look lady," he cut her off. "I don't trust you. I think I've made that clear. But Sammy believes you when you say you can help. So you want to get your rocks off, go somewhere else. You want to help? Then figure out how to get this damn thing off!" He thrust his right arm at her in frustration, baring the Mark.

The lump in her throat was surely choking her, but she forced it down, swallowing against the wave of hot embarrassment that rose along her neck and cheeks.

"I am trying to. What do you think I am doing right now?" She thrust the pile of books up toward his chest, then dropped them loudly on a nearby table. "I am not trying to get any rocks off! You know nothing of what I am. I hardly understand it! I am doing my best here and I cannot help how Mother made me. I cannot help but adjust to these sudden, _human_ urges and I am sorry the way I process them is... annoying you. I was not trying to drive a wedge, as you say. You made it perfectly clear you wanted nothing to do with me. But Sam... Sam has been nice. How was I to even know you would care?" She sought to match his own glare but faltered as he took another step toward her. His nostrils flared and his green eyes were glinting dangerously.

"Sweetheart, you know exactly what you are," those eyes raked down her body. "And you know exactly what you're doing. I've got your number, doll. I've had a million like it. Plus, this thing..." His fingers brushed against the Mark on his arm. "It's like an alarm, blaring when I look at you. You wake it up like a goddamn knife in my hand."

She swallowed again, now past a sharp desire. He was so close she could feel his breath on her face.

"Perhaps it senses that I am a danger to its existence. I promise you I want that thing removed. It is my soul purpose."

Dean's angry face shifted slightly and he quirked his head with a question.

"Why?"

"Why...?" She faltered, backing into the shelf behind her just to get some space between them.

"Yeah. Why do you want it off so bad?"

"It is the original curse. With its destruction I can finally abolish the influence of Ildaboath's blind ignorance."

"Ildaboath..." Dean smirked derisively.

"Your God. The God of the Three Faiths; Christian, Jewish, and Islam."

"God," his smirk bubbled up into a cruel laughter. "God ain't around, sweetheart. I'd've come across him by now."

"The root of his foolhardy creation has overcome everything. He has hidden due to pure exhaustion, disappointment, and shame."

"Really not a fan of the guy, huh?"

"He is the first archon of Sophia. He is her, as I am. It is not his fault his ignorance exists, as it was the will of Sophia. But his refusal to see when she shows him his error has caused much chaos in this world, and others."

"Yeah, well, in my experience chaos is the norm."

"That is because you exist to balance that chaos, and I truly want to help. I promise you that. I am sorry that I upset you. I can leave if you would like me to."

"No, just quit the manipulative play and do what you say you're going to do. I need this thing off and it would probably be in your best interest to see it gone. I can't explain why this thing calls out like a moth to flame around you. You say you want to help, well, I _need_ your help so _do_ something."

Sophia felt the room diffuse with his presence as he snatched up his bag and stormed down the hall and into his room.


	9. Smelly Parchment and Awkward Angels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sophia gets through an awkward morning with the boys, only to have another with Castiel the very next day.

Dean grumbled as he turned the page in the smelly, gigantic book he was currently skimming. Something like a tense understanding was building between him and Sophia, so he had decided to join her and Sam in the search for the Mark's cure. Nearly every book he reached for seemed to have been searched, however. It was early and he was already exhausted. His nightmares hadn't allowed him to get much sleep. He glanced briefly at Sophia. She had been up even earlier than him. Her determination to find the cure had intensified since he'd snapped at her the day before.

She was also avoiding him, which was what he wanted. Still, the draw to her... the desperate pull that crawled along the Mark and rooted, coiling, in the base of his spine... _that_ had only intensified, tenfold. His blood surged as he glanced at her again. His breathing increased and he tried to look back down at the gut-wrenchingly boring paragraph on the rituals of prehistoric shaman. But all he could think of was throwing her down on the pile of books and ripping her shirt off and-

"You can't look at me like that after accusing _me_ of... how did you say...? 'Getting my rocks off'...?" Sophia blurted out suddenly, slamming the book she'd been reading closed.

Dean scoffed slightly but continued his heated gaze.

"Look at you how?" He pressed.

Sophia squirmed in her chair and her eyes dropped below the line of intensity. The blush rising in her cheeks made his blood rush even quicker, and to a significantly lower point in his body.

"Like you want to... devour me." She murmured, turning her head away even further.

He licked his lips automatically and was about to respond when Sam strolled in with his laptop and coffee in hand. He stopped short, glancing between the two of them.

"Hey... We good?"

"Aces." Dean smiled, then continued as he tried to relax. "Yeah. I love the smell of parchment in the morning."

Sam put his computer and mug down with a sigh.

"I mean, how much lore is even left? We've still got nothing on the Mark?" He said and Dean could hear his brother's exasperation clearly.

"Right? You'd think the eggheads, with all the crap they amassed over the years, would have actually collected something important." He reached for a nearby paper. "Uh, here. 'He-Wolf/She-Wolf: A Study in Werewolf Transgenderism.' Six hundred pages, volume one. But, uh, not something important, like- I don't know- maybe the oldest symbol known to man. _That's_ not worth our time. It's not _weird_ enough."

Sam shrugged just as his phone began to ring. He looked down at the screen and smiled.

"No way, heh!" He answered quickly. "Jody! How's it going?"

Dean glanced over at Sophia but she was focused on what she was reading.

"Wow. Sounds like a blast." Sam said, stopping short as Dean waved toward the phone, grinning. He hadn't seen Jody in some time and wondered how she was doing. Surely she wouldn't be calling unless she had a lead on a hunt. He could really use a hunt...

"Uh, Dean says hi. Yeah-Uh, right. Sorry about that." Sam cringed slightly, turning the phone against his ear, then relaxed as he continued.

"Good, good. Yeah, you know," Sam glanced at Sophia, who was still engrossed in reading. "Uh, you know? Hold on a sec. I'm gonna put you on speaker." He put his phone on the table in front of Dean.

"Hey, Jody. How's Alex holding up?" Dean asked.

"Awesome." Jody's tone was sarcastic. "Already head of the cheerleading squad."

"Wow. Really?" Sam asked. 

"No, Sam. She smokes grass under the bleachers. But at least she's not luring men to their deaths."

"Right," Sam said wryly, pushing his hair back.

"Listen, this may not be your kind of thing, but a body was found here this morning, and something had gone to chow town on it."

"Uh, was the throat ripped out?" Sam asked.

Dean could tell Sophia was listening but she was trying to appear as if she weren't.

"Worse. I'm hearing that all the flesh had been eaten down to the bones. Any ideas?" Jody said.

"Well, it's not a vampire." Dean responded.

"Yeah, I don't know, Jody. I got nothing." Sam added.

"Jody, um... We could head that way. Wouldn't be any trouble at all." Dean said, watching Sophia continue to ignore him.

"Nah. It's okay. I can handle it. I promise I'll call if it gets to be something I can't." Jody said.

"Alright. Well, uh, enjoy the retreat." Sam said with a chuckle.

"Screw you, Winchester."

"Talk soon." Sam retrieved his phone with another laugh.

"I'm gonna swallow a bag of knives if I got to keep looking at this stuff. Let's-" Dean began, but Sam cut him off.

"Jody said she was on top of it, Dean."

"Uh-huh," Dean gazed around at the books sadly.

"I got it. You two go ahead." Sophia said, barely glancing up.

Sam sighed.

"Alright. Let's take a drive."

* * *

Sophia awoke the next morning alone in the large, empty bunker, which she was now accustomed to. She stretched in her small bed and rolled out, reaching for her robe and yawning widely as she went out in the hall and started toward the kitchen. Another yawn gripped her as she shuffled through the library.

"Good morning."

She made a strangled noise of surprise and nearly jumped out of her robe, turning toward a man in a trench coat near the stairwell.

"I did not mean to startle you. I thought you would remember me..." His deep voice triggered her memory as she relaxed slightly.

"You are the angel... Castiel."

"Yes and you are... Sophia. But I don't know _what_ you are." He quirked an eyebrow as his gaze slid down her form. Sophia was suddenly acutely aware of how naked she was underneath her robe.

"I'm a human." She replied, pulling the material closer around her.

Castiel pursed his lips and his eyes narrowed slightly.

"You are a human," he was speaking to himself more than her. "A human woman." His eyes roamed up and down her body again.

Sophia just stared at him, clutching her robe, when suddenly he started toward her.

"There is something I need your assistance with, something only a human woman could do for me, I think. Sam and Dean... They aren't here?"

Sophia rose her eyebrows and shook her head.

"You are forward. I think Dean would be upset, though." She said.

The angel furrowed his own brows.

"Dean can't help me with this," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand. " Not if he isn't here."

"Oh!" Sophia blushed slightly. "Well... We could go back to my room, I suppose. I _have_ been needing to relieve certain human proclivities as well. I explained my background to Sam and Dean but you might have a harder time believing it. Still, I am human." She stopped short when she realized Castiel wasn't following her back down the hallway. "Well, I can explain it all afterward." She gave a smile that caused the angel to widen his eyes and fluster.

"We are not- We are speaking of different things..." He choked on his words awkwardly.

Sophia felt her face immediately flush.

"Oh...my...Well," she grappled for words as embarrassment spread.

"It's not that you aren't an attractive woman... And I _do_ prefer women... That is to say, I've only done it once. So perhaps," he quirked his head, then shook it dismissively. "I don't know. But Dean doesn't- I mean, we don't-" Castiel cringed visibly.

"No, I'm sorry. I am poor with social cues at times and you angels are a new phenomena for me. It's also been pointed out that I've been a tad eager lately." She shook her head in exasperation, then continued. " What can I help you with, Castiel?"

"Yes, well," he relaxed slightly. "What I meant to ask is regarding a teenage girl."

Sophia quirked her eyebrows but remained quiet.

"I need to make contact and perhaps she would be more amenable if I had you, a young woman, with me." 

Sophia shook her head slightly as he looked at her expectantly.

"I'm sorry... What _exactly_ are you asking?"

"She's my daughter, well, not _my_ daughter but... She's my vessel's daughter."

Understanding spread as quickly as her previous embarrassment.

"Ah, I see. Yes. I could help you. Just let me get dressed and a bite to eat."

"Thank you." He sat down at one of the tables. "I'll just wait here then."

"Alright. I'll hurry." Sophia rushed back to her room with a faint smile. She'd better put some clothes on before feather-boy short circuited.


	10. Overboil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys join Castiel and Sophia in an effort to find Claire, the missing teenage daughter of Castiel's vessel.

The bunker was empty. It felt, somehow, more deserted than ever before. He'd grown accustomed to having Sophia there. Glancing over at his brother, he could see that Dean felt the same. Obviously he didn't want Sam to know that, though. His look of sharp disappointment was fleeting. Dean ended up spending most of the time since they'd returned the previous afternoon putting on a kind of facade of happiness.

There had been a lot of pie, beer, and stooges involved.

Now they were deep into another lore dig. Every time they dove back into it, it felt more tedious. He could tell that it was fraying Dean's already frazzled nerves. As he watched his brother surreptitiously, a sudden vibration from beneath the table interrupted his reverie. 

"Yeah?" Dean's voice as he answered the phone held none of the mirth it had contained just a day before.

"Hold up, Cas... Slow down! Where are you at?"

Sam perked up.

"Alright. We'll meet you there." Dean hung up, slamming his book closed simultaneously.

"Cas has got an emergency. He wants us to meet him at a diner." 

Sam began to get up but suddenly paused.

"Wait... a diner?" 

They were pulling up to the restaurant within an hour. Castiel was standing against his absurd Lincoln Continental, awaiting their arrival.

"What's up, Cas?" Sam asked.

"She just took off. I need your help. I thought I could handle it myself. I even got Sophia's help, but still- She just took off."

"Wait... Sophia... Sophia took off?" Dean asked, his voice pitching in an unusual way.

"No, she's here... She's right there." The passenger door opened as Castiel spoke and Sophia came out. "It's Claire that took off."

"I tried to help but I believe I only made it worse..." Sophia muttered.

"Who is Claire?" Dean was obviously baffled.

"Claire is my... She's _Jimmy's_ daughter." Castiel said.

Comprehension slowly dawned on Dean. Sam was just about to ask what happened when Dean spoke first.

"This is why you called us? THIS is your emergency?"

"Yes!" Castiel insisted.

"No, Cas! An emergency is a dead body, okay? Or- A wigged out angel, or the Apocalypse: Take Three. Some chick bolting on you is not an emergency. That's... That's every Friday night for Sam." Dean smirked slightly at Sophia, who glared at him.

"Dude..." Sam scoffed.

"Well," Dean just shrugged in response.

"This is not just 'some chick'. I'm responsible for her." Castiel said.

"Since when? You met her once, how many years ago?" Dean pushed.

"Look, Cas," Sam tried to be logical. "Even if we do find Claire... Then what?"

"She rolled you, and then she ran, okay? It's pretty clear that she doesn't want to play house," Dean said.

Castiel capitulated with a sigh.

"I understand. But I need to know that Claire is safe. And I need your help." He said.

"All right, uh," Sam glanced at Dean. "Why don't we go ask around at the group home?"

Dean glanced at Sophia.

"Uh, you know what? Why don't you two go? We're going to stick here in case she circles back." He said, patting Cas on the shoulder as he gave a relieved,

"Thank you."

* * *

Sophia smiled in a way that softened her tightened chest. Tension had been pulling along her nerves since she'd met the Winchesters, but it was a nice change to hear them reminisce about their father. Listening to Dean recant a time when his dad had saved him from a drunken and potentially dangerous incident in his youth was truly heart-warming.

"He saved you." Castiel vocalized her thoughts, mirrored her soft smile...

"Yeah, and you know what he got for that? Me whining about how much he embarrassed me. Me, telling him that I hated him. But then, he stopped and turned around, and he looked at me," Dean's sharp, ever-shifting green eyes pierced her as he smirked into his continued anecdote. "And he said, 'Son, you don't like me. That's fine. It's not my job to be liked.'"

Sam nodded.

"'It's my job to raise you right,'" He said in a mock-serious voice.

Dean chuckled softly, sipping his whiskey. 

"Yeah. And he did."

"Do you think Claire is in trouble?" Castiel said after a stretch of silence.

"She's hanging out with a guy named Randy. She's in trouble." Dean said, his voice as casual as his signal to the bartender for another round.

Sophia was poised to decline but Dean shot her a sharp glance. She bristled slightly, declining the shot of whiskey the bartender brought.

"He can have it if he wants it." She said, with a dismissive motion toward Dean. "I'll switch to water, thank you." She wasn't one to get bullied into over-indulgence.

Dean peaked his eyebrows and nodded very slightly, as if impressed, and it was all she could do not to openly scoff at him. He could be such a cocky asshole sometimes.

They finished their drinks quickly, then went on to Randy's house. The fast food worker that lived with Claire had given them an address, but Sophia had managed to kindle a small connection with the girl so she got them there faster. It was a good thing too, because they found a group of surly men in the run-down house upon arrival. Castiel performed some kind of explosive magic to gain entry. Sam and Dean kept their guns ready as Sophia hung back well out of the way. The leering men were looking to gain an upperhand and she could see the one closest contemplate grabbing for her, despite how close she was to Sam.

She backed up further into a corner and the boys jerked their guns in a dangerous warning as Castiel moved into the house.

"Don't." Sam said.

"Back it up!" Dean growled.

Castiel glanced around desperately.

"Where's the girl?"

Screaming sounded from upstairs.

Sophia moved without thinking, shooting like a dart between Sam and Dean, past the paralyzed men, and up the stairs behind Cas. He blasted another door open and she saw struggling bodies past his figure. When she finally managed to see past Castiel, Claire was kicking a cowering man in a leather jacket repeatedly.

"Claire. Claire!" Castiel rose his voice and Sophia helped him subdue the girl before directing her downstairs.

Claire moved away from Castiel, toward a man that was hunched over and wearing glasses.

"Randy...?" Her voice broke over the name. He only hunched over more, shifting his gaze guiltily.

"Get them outta here," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam glanced at Dean nervously. "Go."

"Go!" Dean barked the command when no one moved and Sophia jumped at the wrath in his voice.

She proceeded out the door, making sure that Claire was in front of her. She was relieved when Sam followed them, with Dean bringing up the rear. One of the men lunged suddenly and Cas pushed passed her, grabbing Claire and trying to drag her along as the brothers rose their guns again. Sophia resisted, though, watching the man in the leather jacket from upstairs walk up behind Dean. 

"Hey, back up! Don't be as dumb as you look," Dean warned the others. 

She was shouting and Sam was too preoccupied trying to get her down the walkway to notice what she was warning. 

"Look out!" She screamed.

But it was too late. The leather-clad man swung a bottle down as Dean turned, breaking the bottle over his head. Dean fell heavily and shook the blood from his eyes as he grunted.

"Get out of here!" Sam shoved her violently down the path and started to put her in the car next to Claire, who was laying her head on the angel's chest as she cried. Sophia fought him off, finally, screaming in frustration. He was so strong!

"Get back in there! Can't you hear him?! Sam!"

Shouting had erupted from the house, pain-filled, cut off, gurgling and fading. Sam rushed back up the walk and Sophia hurried behind him. The door was still off the hinges, but nothing else was the same. Her hands shot up to her mouth, shaking, at the sight of the carnage heaped up around Dean's kneeling form. Claire let out a choked scream as she came up behind her and Castiel pulled the girl to him, away from the bloodied gore.

"Dean? Dean. Hey." Sam crashed to his knees in front of his brother, taking his blood-spattered face into his hands. "Tell me you had to do this."

Dean swayed in his brother's hold.

"I didn't... I didn't mean to."

"No! Tell me it was them or you!" Sam yelled.

A look of appalled realization dawned on Dean's face and Castiel shook his head in horror as he led Claire back outside. Sophia gently prompted Sam to help his brother up and they hurried to leave before any police arrived. Dean seemed numb the entire time. He rode in the passenger seat, staring blindly out of the window, sometimes glancing down at his blood-stained hands.

They dropped Castiel and Claire off at his Lincoln, the two of them departing in a horror-struck silence. Then Sam drove onto the bunker, where they all proceeded to bed in the same anguished stillness. Sophia leaned against her door, closing her eyes and muffling her sobs into quiet. She wanted so badly to help Dean, but he wouldn't let her and the worse he got the less she could help. Shaking her exhausted thoughts away, she climbed into bed and fell into a fitful sleep.


	11. No Resistance (Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean gives into the urges of the Mark.

Sophia didn't sleep long. She couldn't. An anxious chatter had crept into her brain as angry and bloodied dreams tore her nerves to threads. She climbed out of bed with a frustrated sigh, reaching for her robe. This happened too often. She blamed the buzzing, somehow oppressive bunker for disturbing her sleep nearly every night. She followed her regular track of sleeplessness down the hall and through the library, on into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, she glared into its illuminated contents for a moment before forcing herself to eat some of the fresh fruit, as opposed to Dean's pie. She always regretted her decision when she opted into his junk food proclivities.

She sat at the table after eating, pushing strawberry tops and melon rinds around her plate and feeling useless. She'd come here to help the Winchester brothers but she had no idea what to do at this point. She didn't blame Dean for being distrustful. She claimed some sort of supreme divine intervention, while basically having no clue what she was doing. This was the only way, though. She knew that. The mechanism of human free-will required a hefty cushion of ignorance. If she were simply sent with supernatural instructions and tried to force Sam and Dean into compliance, it wouldn't work. Humans were too unpredictable for manipulation to be an assurance. Neither of these approaches would work with the Winchesters. They had been tried, multiple times, and failed. That was exactly why she thought Mother had directed her in this way instead. Working through her own ignorance would inform the brothers and they would uncover the solution naturally together.

She just couldn't hold down a growing sense of futility as she stumbled toward the solution.

With another sigh she picked up her plate, throwing the compost away and moving toward the sink. After finishing a glass of water she turned out the light and went back into the library. The tiny lamps on the tables provided some dim illumination. She briefly thought about going through some lore, then sighed one last time and started back toward her room.

"What are you doing?"

A tiny yelp of surprise marked her stopped tracks in the middle of the room. She looked up and saw his shadowed form across from her, near the telescope. She stumbled over her reply. Even as enshrouded as he was, his gaze struck through her with intensity.

"I'm just... I mean, I was hungry and-," she faltered more as he stood up. "I couldn't sleep."

Her voice finished in a whisper as he started toward her.

"No," his voice had a cruel edge. "I mean, what are you doing _here_?"

His eyes flashed in the reaching lamplight and he was in front of her in just a few thudding heartbeats. Her breath caught in her throat. 

"You keep saying you're here to help but you haven't actually done anything. You haven't really told us anything we couldn't have figured out about the Mark by ourselves. Especially since I don't buy any of that nonsense you spouted about God being real and your mom or whatever." Dean brushed his annoyance away with an aggravated gesture. She let her breath out in surprise when he grabbed both of her shoulders suddenly.

"I need this thing off! I need it off now!" His voice and face were desperate.

"Dean," her words broke against his name.

"All of my nightmares are filled with blood. All of my dreams are filled with you." Dean let her go. "All I can think about is killing everything that is wrong with the world. And when I try to get away from that, there you are." He kept his hands down but he stepped even closer, pivoting her around with his body as she moved back.

"And then all I can think about is slamming you against the nearest wall." He took another firm step, and she pivoted again. "And fucking you senseless." His growl rumbled along a harsh tone. Her breath hitched as she backed into a table. There wasn't an inch of space between them and his face bent over her, somehow alluring and cruel at the same time. "And I just get the feeling that you wouldn't be too resistant about the idea."

"Dean," she couldn't get any volume behind her voice.

"Go ahead," he breathed, his lips hovering. "Tell me you would."

But she couldn't, because he was kissing her and his lips grappled with hers, forcing pliancy as his fingers moved up onto her hair and face. There was an edge of anger, or danger, in his touch that she felt herself coil around. He let her go to remove his shirt, then reached for her again. The way his fingers twisted in her hair at the nape of her neck turned her words to bubbles in her mind and sighs in her throat.

* * *

Dean pulled her closer to him, one hand remaining twisted in her golden curls while the other reached down to jerk her hips against him. After the massacre at Randy's he had concluded that avoiding his urges obviously wasn't doing him any good. He had still lost complete control. If he gave up control with her, what did it matter? Perhaps if he allowed himself to lose control in this way he would be able to maintain it in others. He wasn't going to hurt her... at least he had never had any desire to inflict pain during sex before. With that thought, he bit her lip as he pulled his kiss away, applying enough pressure to make her wince.

Things were different with her, however. He could have easily attributed it to the Mark, which was obviously awakening violence in every aspect of his life. Still, he couldn't help thinking that his aggressive sexual urges had something to do with Sophia herself. She just seemed so eager, especially beneath his roughened touch. His hands found the parted seam of her robe and wrenched it apart, simultaneously lifting her onto the table against which he'd cornered her.

Happily she was stark naked beneath the soft material, which he pushed back aggressively. She moved to escape the sleeves but he stopped her, pulling her free himself, then pushed her down into a supine position.

"You see?" His voice rumbled as he hitched her legs up. "No resistance."

His eyes crawled over her bare flesh, appreciating the way it seemed to sparkle in the dim lamplight. She shivered as his hands moved up the smooth surface along her calves and thighs. He spread her, pulled her closer with a harsh jerk, and settled between her thighs as her gasps pitched toward moaning.

Dean had always enjoyed women. He enjoyed every aspect of them. The way they looked. The way they felt. The way they smelled... They had layers of aroma. Each one of them unique... flowers or fruit or candied spice, always overlaying a kind of carnal, desperate, vulnerable essence that struck right through to the middle of his core. Sophia was dripping and ready for him, her thighs giving little pulses of tension. It was an invitation, a plea, as he took his time with her. She smelled like cinnamon, exotic and sharp, with a warm layer of earthy nutmeg and dark, brown sugar. 

He smirked as she mewled with impatience, pushing her hands back as she reached for him. She gasped as he held them down roughly at her sides. Only when she had settled, her soft skin twitching in hungry anticipation, did he try her. She tasted like she smelled, with an underlayer of salted caramel. He groaned as she sighed happily, letting her hands go so he could reach up to caress her folds with his fingers as well as his mouth.

All the countless hours he'd clocked pleasuring women he bent over the wanton creature that squirmed beneath his skill. She grew so loud he was sure she would wake Sam. He didn't care though; if his brother interrupted him now he would probably kill him with his bare hands. The Mark pulsed suddenly, with as much intensity as his hard dick. He let out another growl as he pulled away from Sophia, abandoning her cruelly upon the precipice of her desire.

She whined, oblivious for a moment, before her golden gaze swept down, nearly glowing with arousal. He rose up from his bent position, leaning over her so the solid cock straining against his jeans pressed between her legs. He buried his face in her hair, roughly pulling her up.

"You want to help me?" He growled into her ear, jerking her off the table. "Get on your knees."

Sophia whimpered, squirming away from the fingers knotting in her hair. She dropped down, sliding against his legs. He wrenched her head back and she cried out in pain, pausing, as she had reached out to undo his jeans. He felt his smile grow as he studied her taut form, straining beneath his hold. He wanted to break her.

The Mark seared, sharp and cruel, just a few inches above the hand that twisted her golden curls. He worked open his zipper with the other hand, pulling himself foward, hard and ready.

"Is this what you want?" He asked. 

She made a noise of mewling affirmation. That wasn't enough for him. He jerked her hair and she cried out.

"Yes! Please!"

He relaxed his hold just enough so she could take hold of him, smirking as he watched her. She was so eager, licking her lips as her tiny hand encircled his shaft. He jerked in her grip, just as eager as she was, groaning as her perfect lips curled around his engorged tip. Warmth and suction washed over him, her tongue lapping around his length like a disjointed thing. His eyes rolled up as he closed them, taken aback by her skill.

It was like she was starving for him, caressing every inch thoroughly before settling him into her throat. She kept him there, turning her head and working her tongue to keep the suction going.

"Good God!" He groaned, the rising pressure too much.

He jerked her hair back wrenching her off of him, the explosive release of suction nearly putting him over the edge. She ripped her own strands of hair loose, jerking free of his hold so she could force her mouth back over him. The sound of her gagging on his solid length made him almost lose it again. He growled, angry, violently plunging into her willing throat a few more times, then flinging her away from him.

She crumpled a few feet away into a glorious golden pile of naked flesh and tousled hair. Dean struggled to catch his breath as he leered over her. He felt nothing like himself... His hard cock curved turgid and ready against the smooth plane of his lower stomach, roiling and pulsing... just as the Mark burned and reverberated along his forearm. He could feel a dark aura sifting... permeating from his very being. Giving into that darkness... letting it own him, it was like an ecstasy altogether even sharper and deeper than those her mouth and dripping folds evoked.

He reached for her, just as she moved to get up, pulling her, lifting her up and taking the few steps over toward the War Table, then laying her upon the world. Dean didn't hesitate to penetrate her fully and aggressively. Her gasp pitched with pain but he took no heed of it, watching her face soften with a suffusion of ecstasy as he proceeded to pummel her. His own low grunts were rising now as he sought his own release violently, and thoroughly. He fucked her long and hard, seeking to bank the fire that scorched the Mark within her flesh.

Surely he'd bruised the golden perfection of it... the way his hands clung to and molded her thick hips cruelly... but the pure ecstasy his treatment obviously induced within her was etched plainly upon her face. So he gritted his teeth, hardened his grip all the more, and pitched his thrusts even faster and deeper within her. Sophia's pleas and moans were unintelligible things that sought to be words but wavered between them. He felt her cum rise slick along his length and still drove into her.

He wanted to break her.

He broke himself against the wave of her release, though. The way her muscles clenched pitching him finally and inevitably over that ever-sought edge. Relief unlike anything he had ever experienced flooded through him, seeping both from his draining cock and seemingly fading Mark. He pushed away from her, still rough, but even he could feel the edges softening. She lay there, her breathing deep and even, and he could see his own liquid seeping forth from between her legs to pool upon the Pacific Ocean of the War Table. He pulled his pants closed and left her there, struggling to catch his breath as he made it to his room.

A wincing smile lit his face as he leaned against his door. The Mark had surely faded, but even now he could feel it growing infinitesimally. A grunting laugh choked him as he tumbled into his bed. She was right. She did help, but he'd have to fuck her raw day and night to keep this monstrosity at bay. Not that he wouldn't want to try, and damn if she didn't seem fucking game, from the experience he'd just had but... Still, an unlikely solution.

Dean laughed again as sleep claimed him.


	12. Not for You (Explicit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam witnesses a scene that both shocks and shames him. In light of Dean's growing rage, the search for a way to remove the Mark becomes desperate.

Sam jerked awake suddenly, peering around his darkened room. Shadows stretched through his mind seeking to pull him back down into sleep. He was just about to give into them, finding no reason to be awake, when a noise sounded loudly... surely the noise that had awoken him to begin with. It was a moan. He sat upright as the sound continued.

Reaching for his SIG he rolled out of bed and sidled toward the door, opening it slightly. He kept his ears peaked as he started down the hall. He heard it again just before he made it to the library. It was louder this time, panting moans, and he recognized the frenzied pitch of ecstasy that carried them. He stopped short as his gun faltered and the voice rose recklessly. He shifted low in the shadows, ducking around to catch sight of the commotion.

It took a moment for his eyes to puzzle out what he was seeing... Sophia was stretched out on one of the low tables, buck naked. Her legs were pointed away from him but the smooth lines of her stomach and pelvis, in tandem with her ample breasts, were truly a sight, even from this angle. She was the one moaning in abandon and it didn't take long to recognize his brother's familiar head bent between her legs.

They had to realize how loud she was but neither one of them seemed to care. A portion of Sam's brain began to whisper to him... _He should leave!_... He was stuck though, rooted to the spot, watching as his brother pleasured this unbelievably beautiful woman. A sneaking guilt began to rise, just as Dean pulled away suddenly. The malicious intensity on his brother's face was alarming.

He watched Dean leer above Sophia, climbing over her like some predatory specter. Sam bit his lip, cutting off a hiss as he saw his brother grip the woman's hair and roughly pull her from the table. Dean had never handled a woman so harshly. He spoke to Sophia, but his voice was low and Sam couldn't understand him. Before he could even strain to hear, however, he was watching Sophia melt against Dean's form to settle on her knees.

His pajama pants strained against a growing erection, even as the sight of Dean yanking Sophia's hair again shocked him. She strained, taut, naked, and glorious, awakening dark memories of passionate trysts with Ruby in his mind. These images were followed shortly by flashes of his lost soul days; a time when he'd reveled in the dark pleasure of rough, cruelty-edged lovemaking. So many random women... so eager to be bent to his will. With no need for sleep Sam had obviously filled his hours in interesting ways. 

None of these women, though... not one of them had been as desperate for him as Sophia appeared to be for his brother. Still straining in his hold, she whimpered as Dean stopped her from reaching for his pants. A low growl rumbled from his brother and although Sam still couldn't hear his words, Sophia's response rang loud as Dean jerked her twisted hair.

"Yes! Please!"

The lurking guilt jumped in his stomach as he watched Dean unfasten his jeans. Even still, he could not look away as Sophia sighed with relief, taking hold of Dean's naked length and immediately bending to work over him. His brother faltered slightly, surprised pleasure washing over his features, groaning in response to Sophia's ministrations. Before long he forced her away, but the woman took little heed of his strength.

Sam nearly groaned aloud as he watched Sophia reach for his brother so desperately. Her need was a palpable thing, muffled moans and whimpers of pleasure rose from her crouched position. Dean stumbled, his head falling back as Sophia reclaimed him. Then he caught himself on the table, and Sam saw him steel himself before gripping the woman's head, angling her throat, and fucking her mouth with an aggression that shocked Sam all the more. 

His guilt was shouting now but he continued to watch, his free hand flitting down to grip his solid erection as he watched Dean throw Sophia away from him, then stalk her like a predator. Scooping her up, Dean closed the distance to the War Table in a second, then spread Sophia in all her bare glory upon the glossy surface. The map painted beneath her enhanced the sight of his brother penetrating her thoroughly, then continuing to fuck her.

Sam's hand seemed to work almost involuntarily, shifting up and down along the line of guilt that matched the steady pace of his brother's penetration. His erection solidified in his hold as Dean's thrusts continued for what seemed like a delicious eternity. Sophia's desperate cries and pleas dissolved into a wonder of unintelligible pleasure. The sound of it was like a layer of ecstasy wholly its own. Finally, just as the guilt within him had muted to a constant subliminal buzz, Sam found a rush of heady release alongside Dean, who slammed violently into Sophia's pliant form, his body shivering in a reckless expulsion.

Dean was pulling away from Sophia, beginning to search for his pants. Sam retreated into the darkness and his subconscious guilt. He hurried silently back to his room as a delirium of released desire shifted toward shame and confusion. Leaning against his door he closed his eyes, listening to the sounds of Dean shuffling back to his own room. He hurried to his bed so he wouldn't hear Sophia. Still, it was a long time before Sam found sleep. He lay there for hours, exploring the depths of his arousal and shame.

* * *

Despite the fact that she hadn't slept well, and certainly had awoken very sore, Sophia was up and out of bed early. The kitchen was empty, even after she took a quick shower. She made some coffee and popped some bread into the toaster. She was just finishing her sparse breakfast when she heard footsteps coming down the metal stairway.

"Morning, Cas." The sound of Sam's voice called through the bunker.

Sophia stood in the kitchen doorway, sipping her coffee as she watched Sam come down the hallway.

"How's Claire?" He asked.

Castiel began to pace in front of the shelves of books.

"She barely speaks to me." He muttered as Sam stepped into the room, sitting at one of the tables.

"She's like a wounded animal... just watching me." Cas went on.

"Look, Cas, you know what? You really tried to do the right thing last night. You did. This guy Claire was hanging out with... _Randy_... all he did was use her." Sam said.

"Well, she thought he was kind. And for that she loved him. Shows how little kindness there was in her life. You know, whatever Randy did, he didn't deserve-" He glanced as Sophia and nearly cringed.

"No, yeah. I know. I know." Sam cut Castiel off. "I hear you. Dean has had to kill before. We both have. But that was-"

"That was what?" This time Sam was cut off and he stood, surprised, as Dean came into the room.

Sophia had seen him making his way down the hallway, her coursing blood tracking his steps as they neared.

"Dean." Sam's voice had softened.

"That was a massacre. That's what it was." Dean looked at each of them and Sophia shivered as his gaze locked with hers. "There was a time I was a hunter, not a stone-cold killer?" He pushed, looking pointedly at Cas and his brother. "You can say it. You're not wrong. I crossed the line. Guys, this thing's gotta go." He looked down at the Mark.

"We've been looking." Sam insisted, looking fervently to Sophia, who nodded.

"It obviously won't be easy." Castiel said.

"Well, then burn it off. Cut it off." Dean was desperate.

"It's more than just a physical thing. It will take more than that. It will take a very powerful force to remove that effect." Cas said gently.

"Dean, Sophia and I have been through all the lore. There's nothing."

"This reaches back to the time of Creation. It may pre-date the lore. If we had the demon tablet, maybe." Castiel said.

Sophia perked up even more, taking a step into the room.

"But you said it was missing." Sam said.

"It is." Castiel said, then paused reluctantly. "There may be another way."

"Well, spit it out, Cas." Dean was growing annoyed.

"Let me see what I can do. I'll be back."

Sophia watched Castiel hurry from the bunker. As his absence settled, so too did a feeling of awkwardness spread between all of them.

"Well, great. I'mma catch a few more hours shut-eye." Dean said, then turned and proceeded back down the hallway.

Sam glanced at her, then quickly away. She thought she saw a blush rise on his ears, but it was hard to tell with his long hair.

"Yeah, um... I gotta-er-jump in the shower." Then he too hurried away.

Sophia sighed, turning to clear her dish and wondering at her ability to clear a room.


	13. Half-baked Plans and a Scrambled Scribe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Castiel turns over the Scribe of God in the hopes that they can find a way to remove the Mark of Cain. However, his presence also manages to antagonize Dean's seething rage.

"Lovely room. It's where you bring the kinky chicks, am I right?"

Sam glared down at Metatron, who shifted his leering gaze over to Sophia. She was standing in the storage area.

"Like you, aye, sweetheart?" Metatron went on.

Sam stepped closer, pulling chains tightly around the Scribe of God.

"I'll ask the questions here. You... Your only job is to provide information." He said.

"Ah. Well. Information does happen to be a specialty of mine. Got about two billion fun facts up here." Metatron replied, pointing to his temple. "Of course, whether I choose to cough one up or not is another matter."

"We need to know how to remove the Mark of Cain from Dean's arm."

Metatron avoided giving him any information and Sam found his annoyance flaring after just a few snide comments. Even Sophia, who was meeting the Scribe for the first time, looked utterly disgusted.

"This man does not seem helpful. This is a waste of time." She scoffed.

"Au contraire, my dear. I can be incredibly helpful, if only provided the proper motivation." He waggled his eyebrows in an obscene way.

"This is an angel?!" Sophia was incredulous.

"I may be an angel but I've learned to appreciate some of the finer creations of humankind. And let me tell you, babe, you are one _fine_ creation. Still, you think I'm going to help his crazy, killing-machine brother just to wet my whistle?" Metatron said crudely. His leer swept down Sophia's body and his face broke into a coy smirk as he shrugged. "Actually, maybe, but you'd have to keep that brother of yours on a short leash." He stopped short as Dean strode into the storage area.

"First off, nobody is wetting your whistle," Sam couldn't help the disgust that curled his lips as he repeated Metatron's words. "And second, I don't care what happens to you. You killed my brother." He turned just as Dean crossed over into the dungeon.

"Well, ain't life a bitch? Nebbishy little guy-me-always sticking it to the lunkhead jocks. Can you blame me for trying to get the girl for once?" He scoffed at all of them dramatically.

"You know what? Screw the Mark. Let's just kill him." Dean growled.

"Boy, he really is a mess. Who knew the Mark was so toxic?" Metatron grinned cruelly at Sam, then continued. "Well, actually, I did." He looked at Dean now. "You know, it's going to own you, sooner rather than later."

"Yeah, so how do we get rid of it?" Sam cut in.

"What, just like that, social hour's over? You're not even going to _introduce_ me to your lovely new friend over there?" Metatron said, looking over at Sophia.

"Maybe you should leave, honey. Things are about to get ugly." Dean growled.

"No. Stop. Sophia needs to hear what he has to say. Time's up, Metatron. We're moving onto the 'Keynote Speaker'." Sam said. 

"Which is you. With us asking the questions. And I asked the lady to leave because I'll be taking the personal pleasure of carving the answers out of you." Dean said, bending over the chained man dangerously.

"Now, just- Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on there, badass! Lighten up! Why do you just assume I'm not gonna be helpful?" Metatron whined.

"Because you're a dickwad." Sam stated.

"But I'm your dickwad. I have a special place in my non-heart for both of you! To which end- Ta-daa! I'd be tickled to help you pop this biblical zit. To do it, you are gonna need one specific thing. Your old bud, The First Blade." Metatron spoke fast as Dean continued to leer over him.

"What?" Sam said in disbelief.

"As I said: ain't life a bitch?" Metatron sighed.

Dean let out a string of curses, shutting the dungeon over Metatron's pleas for release. Sam and Sophia hurried out of the storage area and down the hall behind him, into the library.

"This is the single worst idea I've ever heard. You just whacked a whole house full of people, and that's when the Blade was nowhere around. And now you want to be in actual contact with it?"

Sophia stepped away as they began to argue back-and-forth about it.

"I don't trust Metatron." Dean finally said, cutting the bickering short.

Sam stumbled over his reply.

"You don't tru- Then what?"

"What's his game if he is lying, okay? The Blade without me is useless. The Blade with me is trouble for him." Dean dialed on his cell as Sam responded.

"What does he want?"

"I don't know. But if we weren't willing to take a shot, then what was the point of bringing him here? Unless you got a better idea?" Sam shrugged and Sophia shook her head when Dean glanced at her, so he continued his phone call as he walked down the hall for privacy.

Sam sighed, turning to Sophia.

"We're probably going to have to run. I hate to leave you here with Metatron. He's secure, though. As long as you just stay away from him, you'll be fine. Okay?" She was nodding before he even finished talking.

"Yes, of course." She insisted.

"Look," Sam stepped closer to her, relishing how her breath hitched. "Don't talk to him. I'm serious. Stay away from him."

Sophia took a step back as she frowned.

"All right, Sam. I hear you." She said.

He didn't know why he was suddenly itching to get a rise out of her... Actually, he knew exactly why. Glancing over at the table he'd seen her spread upon, he swallowed hard and backed away.

"Good," he murmured, feeling flustered. "I've got to go pack." And he hurried away from her furrowed gaze.

* * *

Sophia spent her time pretty much avoiding the Winchesters. She took over a single table in the library most often, intent on combing every bit of lore all over again. They ignored her for the more part. They had enough to worry about, entrusting that horrid Crowley, the King of Hell for goodness' sakes! And sending him off to obtain a blade that awoke the Mark of Cain even _more_? Sophia rolled her shoulders at the thought.

She was still sore from Dean's treatment the other night. Although he did attempt to ignore her, she could see his lurid stares idling over from time to time. But she shook her head at the thought. She didn't know what to make of their interaction that night. It was so twisted up in chaos and death, it was hard to think of. Still, when she _did_ think of it her body was lit up with an arousal she had never experienced before.

When she had possessed this body as the Magdalene, she had experienced sensual arousal in many forms, with many, many, many men. Her experiences with Christ alone had been glorious in ways she could never fully explain. But she and Christ were meant to be entwined through divine fate. Sophia, in all her forms, was the very fountain from which the Holy Spirit emanated, and it was the Holy Spirit which gave Christ his very soul.

What she had experienced with Dean... That had been altogether different and wholly darker, also, truly alluring in a way she had never, ever experienced. She squirmed in her seat as her thighs warmed and bent closer over her books. It was late and she hadn't eaten. She sighed, looking up. Dean had been in the kitchen so she'd been avoiding it but he was gone now.

She glanced over at Sam, who was doing his own research at his computer a table over. She was just about to get up when Castiel walked into the room.

"It's late. I'm gonna drive around a little bit, see if I can find Claire." He said.

"Right now?" Sam asked.

"I have to try." Cas replied.

"Well, be careful." Sam glanced away. "Wait... Cas? Where's Dean?"

Sophia looked on as the two of them hurried down the hall. She just froze, even as she listened to Sam and Castiel pound on the storage room door. Sam's desperate voice echoed back to her, begging his brother to open the door. Slowly, she began to rise and start toward the chaos. As she rounded the corner she caught sight of Sam body-slamming the door.

She could barely make out the horrid, blood-curdling screams that were seeping through the door Sam was now kicking. Castiel suddenly pushed Sam out of the way.

"Move!" He shouted, raising his arm. She saw his eyes glow with an ethereal light, then watched that light pour from his palm and shatter the door into pieces. He stumbled slightly, slumping as Sam ran past him. 

Sophia continued to walk slowly, feeling numb as she held up an exhausted Castiel as she approached the destroyed entrance.

"No! Dean! Hey, stop, stop!" Sam was saying, and she watched him pull his brother away from a still chained and now bloody Metatron. Castiel hurried into the room as she continued to hover in the wrecked doorway.

"You were killing him." Sam went on. Dean had his eyes lowered but she could see the dark disregard that hooded his gaze.

"I have to take him back." Castiel muttered; he unchained the Scribe from the chair.

"Cas, this won't happen again." Sam insisted.

"I gave my word. I have fences to mend in Heaven, and as it is... I have a lot to explain." Castiel responded.

"If you ever ask me for help again, I will choose death. You realize it's going to get worse, Dean. You're gonna get worse!" Metatron called out as Castiel dragged him away and down the hall.

Sophia watched them go, then turned back to see Sam reaching for his brother's shoulder.

"Dean," his voice was soft, nearly tender. She started to leave.

"Don't!" Dean replied in a vicious growl and he jerked away from Sam's touch. "Just go." He went on, snarling as Sam took a step toward him.

Sam sighed and backed off.

"Okay man," he murmured.

"Please just go." Dean hung his head as his brother retreated from the room.


End file.
